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Hppletons' 

Uown  ant)  Country 

Xibrari? 

No.  206 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS 


Fellow  Travelers. 

Ey    Graham    Travers.      i2mo.      Paper,    50 

cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"Miss  Travers  interests  us  in  her  characters  directly  she 
shows  them  to  us;  the  interest  enhances  all  through,  and  the 
curtain  drops  before  we  are  in  the  least  danger  of  being  bored  by 
them.  .  .  .  She  began  well  with  her  '  Mona  Maclean,  Medical 
Student.'  Here  she  has  done  better  still.  Her  literary  style  has 
improved,  her  psychologic  insight  has  sharpened." — London 
Daily  Chronicle. 


Mona  Maclean,  Medical  Student. 

By    Graham    Travers.      i2mo.      Paper,    50 

cents ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  The  cleverest  novel  we  have  read  for  a  long  time,  and  yet  it 
is  thoroughly  enjoyable  as  well.  .  .  .  The  more  charming  in 
virtue  of  the  fact  that  its  simple  entertaining  quality  does  not  ex- 
clude a  certain  fine  seriousness  of  intent  which  gives  it  an 
intellectual  and  moral,  as  well  as  a  merely  narrative  or  dramatic, 
interest." — London  Spectator. 


New  York:   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS 


BY 


GRAHAM  TRAVERS 

AUTHOR    OF    MONA    MACLEAN,    MEDICAL    STUDENT 


NEW    YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1896 


Copyright,  1896, 
Bv  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


Co]>yrlght,  ISte,  by  G.  P.  Potnun'i  Sou. 


CONTENTS. 


PACB 

After  many  days        i 

The  examiner's  conscience 44 

A   GREAT   GULF .  .  .     t^ 

The  knight  and  the  lady 102 

The  STORY  of  a  friendship  :  a  study  in  sober  tints  .  138 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 

I've  heard  of  hearts  unkind,  kind  deeds 

With  coldness  still  returning. — WORDSWORTH. 


"  Third-class,  if  you  please,"  he  said  brusquely. 
"  A  working-man  with  a  family  can  afford  no  kick- 
shaws." 

"No,"  said  the  young  widow,  looking  up  in  the 
rugged  face  with  a  tearful  smile;  "and  that  is  why 
he  can  afford  to  come  all  these  miles  without  a  fee,  to 
visit  a  sick  child!  " 

"  Tut,  tut !  "  he  answered  shortly.  "  Will  corbies 
pick  oot  corbies'  een  ?  That  wasn't  much  to  do  for 
poor  Tom's  boy — and  yours.  Now,  don't  fret.  The 
child's  all  right.  Keep  up  his  strength,  and  don't  be 
afraid  of  fresh  air.     Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  scarcely  lowering  her  voice 
as  much  as  he  could  have  wished.  "  God  bless  you  ! 
You  are — the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary 
land ! " 

The  train  was  moving  slowly  out  of  the  station, 
and  the  doctor  hastily  clapped  the  pockets  of  his 
baggy  old  ulster  in  search  of  his  daily  paper.  Its 
columns  had  already  received  much  closer  attention 

1 


2  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

than  he  could,  as  a  rule,  afford  to  the  claims  of  poli- 
tics; but  a  newspaper,  like  most  good  things,  serves 
many  purposes. 

What  a  fuss  that  girl  did  make  about  nothing  to 
be  sure !  She  always  was  a  neurotic,  fusionless, 
anaemic  thing.  He  had  told  Tom  so  before  the  mar- 
riage, and  he  remembered  still  how  indignantly  his 
old  chum  had  replied,  "All  right,  old  boy,  many 
thanks ;  but  I  leave  it  to  you  to  choose  your  wife  by 
the  number  of  her  red  blood  corpuscles ! "  Tom 
was  a  fool,  of  course.  Next  to  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit,  what  did  a  woman  want  more  than  plenty  of 
red  blood  corpuscles  ?  Latin  and  Greek  and  piano- 
playing  were  a  poor  business  in  comparison.  Ah, 
well!  with  all  her  faults,  and  with  all  his  ill-luck, 
poor  Tom  had  at  least  had  a  devoted  wife.  What 
was  it  she  had  said  as  the  train  was  moving  off  ? 
*'The  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 
Stuff  and  nonsense!  And  yet,  perhaps,  it  was  only 
fair  that  someone  here  and  there  should  look  at  a 
man  through  rose-coloured  spectacles.  That  didn't 
happen  too  often  now  that  one  was  growing  grumpy 
and  middle-aged,  with  no  gift  for  making  pretty 
speeches,  and  no  belief  in  the  universal  divine  mis- 
sion of  women! 

The  doctor  folded  his  paper  with  a  grunt,  and 
looked  almost  defiantly  at  the  other  occupants  of 
the  carriage. 

There  were  only  two.  An  old  lady  was  nodding 
comfortably  in  the  other  corner  on  his  own  side ; 
and  opposite  her  sat  a  young  girl  gazing  intently 
out  of  the  window. 


AFTER  MANY  DAYS,  3 

"Another  neurotic  specimen!"  thought  the  doc- 
tor almost  indignantly,  "  white  lips,  and  muscles  all 
on  the  strain  !  What  is  the  race  coming  to  ?  And 
no  doubt,  if  one  only  knew  it,  some  young  fool  is 
daft  about  her,  and  declines  to  concern  himself  with 
the  number  of  her  red  corpuscles !  " 

As  if  in  response  to  his  gaze,  the  girl  turned  her 
head,  and  an  unconscious,  shuddering  sigh  revealed 
yet  more  clearly  the  tension  of  her  nerves. 

"  Or  is  she  in  love  with  him  ?  "  went  on  the  mer- 
ciless critic.  "  If  so,  it  looks  as  if  he  had  been  wise 
in  time, — and  this  is  the  result.  Rough  on  her,  poor 
little  goose!  Would  Ethel  have  looked  like  that,  I 
wonder,  if  Tom  had  taken  my  advice  ?  Poor  Ethel ! 
Wh€n  all  is  said,  she  is  a  plucky  little  soul, — con- 
sidering that  Nature  never  meant  her  to  face  the 
world  alone, — and  least  of  all  with  a  delicate  child 
on  her  hands." 

The  train  drew  up  at  a  station,  and  the  old  lady, 
awaking  with  a  start,  proceeded  hastily  to  collect 
her  chattels. 

The  young  girl  rose  with  automatic  courtesy, 
**  If  you  will  get  out  first,"  she  said,  "  I  will  hand 
you  the  things." 

But  the  step  was  a  very  high  one,  and  the  old 
lady  hesitated. 

"  Wait  a  bit,"  said  the  doctor  grufifly,  "  I'll  go  first." 

He  helped  her  out  carefully,  landed  the  parcels, 
and  then  returned  to  his  corner. 

"Well,  she  can't  say  we're  not  polite,"  he  re- 
marked with  grim  humour,  as  if  half  ashamed  of  the 
trouble  he  had  taken. 


4  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

The  girl  smiled  in  the  same  absent,  preoccupied 
way.  It  seemed  as  if  outward  things  could  not  pen- 
etrate beyond  the  extreme  surface  of  her  mind. 

The  doctor  began  to  be  interested  in  his  compan- 
ion from  a  professional  point  of  view.  Hers  was  a 
striking  face,  now  that  he  got  a  good  view  of  it, — 
not  so  pretty  as  Ethel's,  but  intellectual,  cultured; 
and  the  pose  of  the  dainty  head  on  its  slender  neck 
reminded  him  irresistibly  of  one  of  his  own  Scotch 
bluebells. 

But  surely  there  was  something  more  amiss  even 
than  the  want  of  red  corpuscles !  Either  the  girl 
was  on  the  eve  of  an  illness,  or  she  was  in  a  state  of 
almost  unbearable  nerve  strain.  Instinctively  the 
doctor  laid  his  hand  on  the  pocket  that  contained 
his  clinical  thermometer. 

For  she  was  not  an  ordinary  hysterical  subject 
by  any  means.  He  noted  with  quiet  appreciation 
how  she  controlled  every  muscle  when  the  express 
whizzed  shrieking  past ;  such  perfect  inhibition  was 
not  acquired  in  a  day;  and  he  waited  expectantly 
till  he  saw  the  pale  face  turn  a  few  shades  paler 
when  the  noise  was  over. 

"  Perfectly  ridiculous  that  she  should  be  knock- 
ing about  the  country  by  herself ! "  he  thought. 
"I'd  like  to  know  what  her  people  are  thinking  of." 

The  girl  let  down  the  window  at  this  point,  and 
leaned  forward  to  get  the  full  benefit  of  the  sharp 
air. 

"  Much  better  lie  down,  if  you  are  afraid  of  faint- 
ing," continued  the  doctor,  still  to  himself.  "  If  I 
had  any  voice  in  the  matter,  I'd  pack  you  off  to  do 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


5 


light  work  on  a  dairy  farm  for  the  next  six  months. 
Little  goose  ! — overwrought  and  underfed  to  such 
an  extent  that  she  is  scarcely  responsible  for  her 
actions." 

He  began  to  wish  that  she  was  not  so  supremely 
unconscious  of  his  existence.  He  would  have  liked 
to  enter  into  conversation,  and  to  give  her  the  bene- 
fit of  the  wholesome  advice  that  was  drifting  about 
in  his  mind.  Overworked  country  doctors  are  not 
often  guilty  of  such  weakness,  and  our  friend  was 
far  from  being  an  exception  to  the  rule;  but  the 
consciousness  of  his  own  generosity  in  making  this 
journey  at  all,  and  the  pathetic  gratitude  of  the  poor 
little  widow,  had  kindled  his  mood  into  an  unusually 
mellow  glow. 

"The  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 
The  words  reminded  him  of  the  dreams  of  his 
youth,  of  the  hopes  and  aspirations  that  had  floated 
through  his  mind  when  the  great  man  spoke  such 
thrilling  words  on  Graduation  day.  Heigho  !  Life 
was  a  great  disillusioner — as  no  doubt  the  great  man 
knew — but  speeches  had  to  be  made  ! 

"The  shadow  of  a  great  rock."  Not  many  of 
his  patients  would  be  disposed  to  apply  those  words 
to  him  nowadays.  They  thought  him  rough  and  un- 
sympathetic, and  rather  keen  about  his  hard-earned 
fees.  But  then,  on  the  other  hand,  women  had 
ceased  to  care  about  shadow  in  these  times.  They 
preferred  the  glaring,  merciless,  all-revealing  sun- 
light. Not  Ethel !  Ethel  was  never  one  of  that 
sort,  bless  her !  Perhaps  poor  old  Tom  had  not 
made  such  a  bad  choice  after  all.     Heigho  !     When 


6  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

all  was  said,  they  were  a  poor  lot,  women,  a  poor 
lot, — always  excepting,  of  course,  his  own  little 
sonsie-faced  lassie,  who  had  hated  the  country,  and 
hated  his  work,  and  who  lay  now  asleep  in  the 
dreary,  unbeautiful  kirkyard. 

"  The  shadow  of  a  great  rock."  Involuntarily 
he  glanced  again  at  his  companion,  and  to  his 
amazement  he  saw  that  a  complete  change  had 
come  over  her  mood.  No  longer  unconscious  of 
his  existence,  she  was  gazing  at  him  with  such  a 
hungry,  searching  look  that  his  own  glance  fell 
before  it.  Her  eyes  were  like  those  of  a  hunted 
animal.  "  Is  this  a  haven,"  they  seemed  to  say,  "  or 
only  another  snare  ?  " 

His  curiosity  was  thoroughly  aroused  now,  and 
in  another  moment  he  turned  to  her  with  a  prelimi- 
nary cough. 

But  she  saved  him  the  trouble  of  breaking  the 
ice. 

"  You  are  a  doctor,  are  you  not  ? "  she  said,  con- 
trolling her  voice  with  a  painful  effort,  and  coming 
nearer  to  where  he  sat. 

"  I  am." 

**  I  wanted  to  ask  you,"  she  went  on,  struggling 
to  speak  dispassionately,  **  what  you  would  do  with 
me  if — if  anything  should  happen  to  me  before  1  get 
to  my  journey's  end  ?  " 

"  What  should  happen  to  you  ? "  he  asked  ab- 
ruptly. 

She  did  not  answer. 

"Do  you  feel  ill?" 

"  No.     I  don't  think  so — not  exactly  ill.     I  feel  " 


AFTER    MANY   DAYS.  7 

— she  seemed  to  be  gathering  her  forces  for  a  des- 
perate effort — "  as  if — as  if  I  were  going  mad." 

Well,  this  was  a  plunge  into  the  depths!  Fortu- 
nately the  doctor  was  an  experienced  hand,  so  he 
held  his  breath  and  waited  quietly  till  he  came  to 
the  surface  again. 

"  In  the  first  place,  let  me  set  your  mind  at  rest," 
he  said  gruffly;  "you  are  not  going  mad — this 
time.  In  the  second  place,  do  you  mind  telling  me 
why  you  did  not  eat  a  proper  breakfast  this  morn- 
ing ?  " 

He  half  expected  that  she  would  be  angry,  but 
she  was  obviously  too  much  in  earnest  for  that.  A 
faint  smile  strove  vainly  to  relax  the  tension  of  her 
face. 

"  I  can't  eat,"  she  said  shortly. 

"  That's  what  fools  say.  When  a  wise  woman 
can't  eat,  she  rings  the  bell  and  asks  for  a  glass  of 
milk.     Did  you  do  that  ?  " 

*'  No."  He  had  succeeded  at  least  in  arresting 
her  attention. 

"  So  I  thought.  And  you  have  given  up  beef 
and  mutton,  haven't  you  ? — such  gross,  brutal  diet ! 
All  very  well  for  mere  ineti!  But  a  cup  of  tea  fits 
one  so  much  better  for  work,  doesn't  it  ?  That  is 
one  of  the  great  economical  discoveries  that  we  owe 
to  your  sex  ?  " 

She  was  almost  laughing  now,  though  rather  re- 
sentfully. 

"  I  suppose  I  have  given  you  the  right  to  assume 
that  I  am  a  silly  girl ;  but  it  is  scarcely  the  case.  I 
am  a  working  woman." 


8  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

He  bowed.  "I  am  not  surprised.  It  seems  to 
my  old-fashioned  eyes  that  the  one  class  shades  im- 
perceptibly into  the  other  nowadays.  My  friends  in 
town  tell  me  that  every  ballroom  coryphee  is  either 
absorbed  in  some  East  End  mission,  or  is  working 
up  for  what  she  is  pleased  to  call  the  *  Higher 
Locals.'  Let  me  own  up  at  once !  If  you  begin  to 
quote  Greek,  I  am  lost ;  and,  as  for  Latin,  I  don't 
believe  I  could  write  a  prescription  without  abbrevi- 
ations. Be  merciful !  I  am  only  a  very  dull,  very 
humdrum,  stupid  old  country  doctor." 

"  Oh  dont  mock  me !  "  she  cried,  a  rich  colour 
rising  into  her  delicate  cheek.  "  I  don't  know  any 
Latin  and  Greek.  I  thought  once  I  could  paint — 
and — and  other  people  thought  so  too ;  but  it  is  all 
gone.     I  am  a  drone — a  drone  !  " 

So  this  was  all,  was  it  ?  She  couldn't  paint.  Was 
the  moon  really  out  of  reach,  pretty  dear  ?  What  a 
shame  ! — Well,  well !  He  had  patients  in  the  work- 
house asylum  who  had  gone  off  their  heads  for  less 
assignable  reason  than  that.  Patience!  Let  her 
quiet  down  a  bit  and  then  hear  her  out. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  you  would  think 
me  a  boor,  if  I  asked  your  leave  to  smoke?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  !  " 

He  produced  a  well-seasoned  old  meerschaum, 
looked  at  it  caressingly,  and  then  held  it  out  to  her. 

"  Isn't  that  a  beauty  ?"  he  said. 

She  smiled.     "  It's  a  fine  bit  of  colour." 

"So  I  think."  He  nodded  approvingly,  filled  the 
bowl,  lighted  it  deliberately,  and  drew  a  few  appre- 
ciative whiffs. 


AFTER    MANY   DAYS.  g 

"Yes,"  he  said,  arranging  himself  more  comfort- 
ably in  his  corner,  "  it's  an  old  friend,  and  one  of 
the  best  I've  got.  It  has  helped  me  over  many  a  fret, 
and  at  times — not  too  often — it  has  shared  a  bit  of 
honest  pleasure.  It  was  given  me  by  a  college  chum 
— he's  dead  now,  poor  fellow  ! — the  husband  of  that 
lady  who  was  with  me." 

"I  know,"  she  cried  involuntarily, — "the  lady 
who  said  you  were " 

"Ay,"  he  interrupted  grimly.  "Her  child  has 
been  ill,  poor  thing !  She'd  have  said  anything  just 
then.  And  that  reminds  me,  I  am  bound  in  honour 
to  eat  the  sandwiches  she  gave  me.  You'll  help  me, 
won't  you  ? " 

The  very  thought  of  eating  made  her  throat  feel 
like  redhot  iron,  and  the  sandwiches — produced  from 
a  battered,  professional  bag — smelt  strongly,  she 
fancied,  of  antiseptic  bandages  ;  but,  conscious  as 
she  was  beginning  to  be  of  how  completely  she  had 
given  herself  away,  if  he  had  asked  her  to  eat  the 
bandages  themselves,  she  must  needs  have  at- 
temped  it. 

"  Take  a  mouthful  of  sherry,"  he  said  kindly. 
"  That'll  help  it  down.     Feel  better  now  ?  " 

Her  answer  was  an  indirect  one. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  rising  and  walking  to  the  oppo- 
site window,  "  what  an  utter,  uUer  fool  you  must 
think  me ! " 

He  knocked  the  ashes" from  the  bowl  of  his  pipe. 

"It  never  does  to  be  in  a  hurry,"  he  said  slowly, 
"  when  you're  judging  which  of  your  fellow-creatures 
are  fools.     So   much  depends   on  how  you  look  at 


lO  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

them.  I  dont  think — I  have  quite  made  up  my  mind 
yet  whether  you  are  a  fool  or  no." 

She  smiled — a  wan  wintry  little  smile. 

"  Oh,  1  ajn  a  fool !  "  she  said.  **  It  is  past  hiding 
so  far  as  you  are  concerned.  And  yet — you  are  a 
doctor — you  ought  to  understand.  For  days  past  I 
have  been  so  horribly  afraid  of  going  mad.  When- 
ever people  looked  at  me,  I  fancied  they  noticed 
something  odd  about  my  actions.  Only  yesterday 
— I  had  gone  into  a  field  to  gather  some  coloured 
berries — not  that  I  cared  to  have  them  ! — and  two 
men  were  carting  brushwood,  and  they  stopped  and 
watched  me — oh "  she  pushed  away  the  foot- 
warmer  with  a  force  of  which  he  would  not  have  be- 
lieved her  capable,  "  it  is  too  ridiculous  !  " 

"Ay,"  he  responded  gravely,  "it  is  ridiculous; 
but  I've  no  doubt  it  was  real  enough  at  the  time." 

There  was  silence  between  them  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

"  What  put  it  into  your  head  that  you  could 
paint?"  he  asked  suddenly. 

She  smiled  again.  A  man  like  this  was  an  entirely 
new  fact  in  her  experience. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "except  that  I  always 
was  painting  from  the  time  I  could  hold  a  pencil. 
They  all  opposed  me,  my  people  at  home.  I  mean, 
they  thought  I  should  be  content  to  paint  watery 
landscapes  and  Christmas  cards  and  useless  terra 
cotta  plaques.  '  So  nice  to  be  able  to  give  pleasure 
to  your  friends ! '  they  said.  As  if  at  my  time  of 
life — I  was  only  a  girl  then,"  she  interposed  naively, 
with  a  seriousness  which   tried  his  gravity  almost 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS.  1 1 

beyond  endurance — "  as  if  at  my  time  of  life  I  had 
any  right  to  be  content  with  work  that  led  nowhere, 
that  was  an  end  (God  forgive  the  word !)  in  itself  ! 
As  if,  indeed,  anyone  short  of  an  idiot  would  rest 
content  with  producing  rubbish  like  that!  " 

He  nodded  with  real  appreciation.  From  widely 
different  starting-points  they  had  arrived  at  what 
was  probably  their  one  foothold  of  common  ground 
in  the  domain  of  Art. 

"  However,"  she  continued  more  brightly,  little 
guessing  how  narrow  the  foothold  was,  "  I  got  my 
way  in  the  end."  And  she  told  him  a  story  of 
earnest  effort,  of  eager  delight  in  work  for  work's 
sake,  of  divers  small  successes,  culminating  in  a 
definite  result  which  even  his  unskilled  ears  could 
roughly  appreciate. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  think,"  she  said  with  sudden 
shyness,  "  that  I  am  giving  you  the  opinion  only  of 
admiring  friends.  I  was  never  afraid  of  criticism. 
I  used  to  think — then — that  there  was  no  delight  on 
earth  like  standing  by,  while  some  one  not  only  told 
me,  but  made  me  see,  where  I  had  failed.  And  I 
think  people  knew  that,  more  or  less,  and  were 
honest  with  me.  They  told  me,  of  course,  that  my 
work  was  crude  ;  but  they  thought  I  had  ideas,  and 
an  eye  for  colour,  and  even  some  force  in  my  own 
small  way." 

She  paused  in  some  confusion. 

He  nodded  gravely.  No  doubt  there  was  an 
undercurrent  of  profound  amusement  in  his  mind  ; 
she  took  herself  and  her  Art  so  seriously,  this  over- 
strung child — as  if,  forsooth,  there  were  not  pictures 


12  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

enough  in  the  world !  But,  as  a  case,  she  was 
interesting ;  and  there  was  a  curious  charm  about 
every  movement  of  the  harebell  head;  and  —  a 
pathetic  little  woman  had  told  him  only  an  hour 
before  that  he  was  '*  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock 
in  a  weary  land." 

So  he  nodded  gravely,  and  the  girl  felt  herself 
lifted,  like  a  stranded  boat,  on  the  wave  of  his 
strong  personality. 

"  And  so,"  she  said,  "  I  seemed  all  at  once  to 
find  myself  in  the  running,  don't  you  know  ?  And 
they  told  me  if  I  would  only  undertake  a  serious  bit 
of  work,  I  should  make  my  mark.  I  really  began 
to  believe  myself  that  I  should,  and  that  was  a 
new  experience  for  me !  I  had  never  before  real- 
ized that  anything  I  did  was  good  till  one  or  two 
people  had  assured  me  of  it,  and  I  had  come  to 
look  at  it  with  their  eyes.  But  now  I  was  full  of 
hope  and  confidence.  I  chose  my  subject — I  be- 
lieve I  flattered  myself  that  it  '  came  to  me  ' ! — and, 
after  I  had  made  a  lot  of  studies,  I  ordered  a  big 
canvas  and  began." 

She  broke  off  with  a  sigh  that  was  almost  a  sob. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  talk  of  it !  "  she  said.  "  I  worked 
hard — tremendously  hard,  and  at  first  everything 
seemed  to  go  on  as  usual.  Then  I  began  to  feel  that 
there  was  something  inherently  wrong;  but  I  had 
felt  that  so  often  before — and  just  when  I  was  doing 
what  proved  to  be  my  best  work — that  I  thrust  the 
idea  aside,  and  worked  harder  than  ever.  I  knew  I 
was  applying  myself  too  constantly,  but  I  could  not 
rest.    I  felt  I  must  have  my  fate  decided  one  way  or 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


13 


the  other.  And  all  the  time  the  feeling  that  some- 
thing was  wrong  kept  haunting  me,  as  it  had  never 
done  before. 

"  I  saw  very  little  of  my  friends  in  those  days. 
When  they  came  to  the  studio,  I  either  did  not  show 
them  the  picture,  or  1  did  not  encourage  anything 
more  than  conventional  comments. 

"  But  at  last  one  day  a  friend  came  in,  with  whom 
I  had  a  sort  of  tradition  of  mutual  honesty.  He  was 
a  good  deal  my  senior,  and  he  had  helped  me  often, 
and — I  knew  he  would  not  find  it  easy  to  lie  to  me. 
I  can't  tell  you  how  I  felt,  how  I  longed  to  escape, 
or  hide  the  picture  or  anything ;  but  it  was  too  late. 
There  I  was,  stripped  of  my  defences,  and  my  day  of 
wrath  had  come  !  " 

The  doctor's  eyes  had  been  fixed  for  some  mo- 
ments on  the  hurrying  line  of  trees  above  the  railway 
bank,  but  now  he  turned  and  looked  sharply  at  his 
companion. 

Yes,  she  was  thoroughly  in  earnest.  The  eager, 
quivering  face  bore  ample  evidence  to  that ;  but, 
apart  from  the  pathological  aspect  of  the  case,  how 
supremely  ridiculous  the  whole  thing  was  !  What 
if  he  should  begin  to  talk  about  his  Dies  Ira  when  a 
fracture  failed  to  unite,  or  a  patient  complained  of 
the  effect  of  a  prescription  ?  Nay,  he  might  suggest 
the  expression  to  his  little  Polly  as  a  relief  to  her 
feelings  when  her  doll's  gaudy  millinery  turned  out 
less  satisfactory  than  usual ! 

Fortunately  the  rugged  face  was  but  a  poor  index 
to  the  passing  thoughts  that  came  and  went  behind 
it,  so  the  girl  went  on— 


14 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  He  Stood  behind  my  stool  without  speaking  for 
what  seemed  to  me  an  eternity.  Not  that  there  was 
anything  new  in  that.  It  was.  always  his  way  before 
he  criticized  anything.  The  strange  thing  was  that 
this  time  he  seemed  to  be  struck  by  his  own  silence, 
and  he  began  to  praise  the  pose  of  this,  the  drapery 
of  that — any  detail  that  pleased  him.  I  missed  the 
genuine  ring  in  a  moment,  and  I  pushed  back  my 
seat  from  the  easel,  and  threw  aside  my  palette. 
*  In  other  words,'  I  said  quietly,  '  the  thing  is  a 
failure  !  '  It  was  hard  on  him,  I  know ;  but  I  was 
past  caring  for  him.  It  was  life  and  death  to  me. 
I  don't  know  what  he  would  have  said  if  I  had 
given  him  time.  As  it  was,  he  hesitated,  and — at 
least  he  knew  me  well  enough  to  see  that  after  that 
no  half-hearted  assurances  would  be  of  the  smallest 
use.  '  The  fact  is,'  he  said,  '  you're  done  up.  You 
have  been  sticking  at  it  too  closely.  Go  off  home 
for  a  bit  and  take  a  rest.  You'll  make  a  success  of 
this  yet  some  day.'  " 

"Excellent  advice!"  said  the  doctor,  glad  to  be 
able  to  approve  of  something  at  last. 

"  Excellent  advice  !  "  she  repeated  bitterly,  *'  and, 
like  most  excellent  advice,  utterly  useless.  Rest ! 
How  can  I  rest  when  I  am  haunted  by  the  convic- 
tion that  I  have  begun  to — decay  1  Don't  you  see — 
I  have  staked  everything  on  this  ?  If  it  fails,  I  have 
nothing  left.  Rest !  Oh,  how  I  could  rest,  if  I  could 
only  do  one  little  bit  of  good  work  first ! — Just 
enough  to  give  me  one  little  ray  of  hope  for  the 
future!  But,  try  as  I  will,  I  can't;  and,  if  I  can't 
do  it  to-day,  what  reason   have  I  to  hope  that  I 


AFTER  MANY   DAYS. 


15 


shall  he,  able  to  do  it  to-morrow,  or  next  day,  or 
any  day  ? " 

Her  companion  did  not  answer.  Inured  as  he 
was  by  long  discipline,  to  the  constant  involuntary 
self-sacrifice  of  a  country  doctor's  life,  he  was  al- 
most appalled  by  the  supreme  naive  self-absorp- 
tion of  the  spoilt  child  before  him.  Fortunately 
her  next  words  struck  a  chord  that  vibrated  in  his 
being  too. 

"  But  the  last  few  days,"  she  went  on  in  a  lowered 
voice,  "  even  that  fear  has  been  lost  in  the  other 
awful  fear  I  told  you  of.  You  may  guess  what  it 
must  have  been  before  I  let  myself  be  driven  to 
speak  of  it — even  to  you  !  " 

There  was  a  long  silence.  The  neuroses  of  mod- 
ern life  did  not  bulk  very  largely  in  the  good  doctor's 
practice ;  and,  when  cases  did  occur,  he  was  apt  to 
classify  them  under  rather  unflattering  names.  If 
any  one  else  had  consulted  him  about  this  girl — her 
mother,  for  instance — he  would  have  made  very  short 
work  of  the  case ;  a  few  rough  sentences  and  a  brief 
prescription  would  have  been,  in  his  estimation,  amply 
sufficient  to  meet  its  exigencies ;  and,  assuredly  no 
notice  of  it  would  have  appeared  among  the  meagre 
and  occasional  jottings  in  his  case-book.  But  she 
was  so  obviously  ill,  as  she  sat  in  front  of  him  there; 
her  misery  was  so  real  to  her;  her  faith  in  him  so 
pathetic;  and,  above  all,  she  had  so  much  spirit  and 
pluck  in  her  own  odd  way, — that,  in  spite  of  his  utter 
want  of  sympathy  with  her  aims,  he  found  himself 
making  a  clumsy  effort  to  approach  her  plane  of  life 
and  thought. 


1 6  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

The  train  rushed  shrieking  into  a  tunnel,  and  he 
waited  till  they  emerged  into  daylight  again. 

"  I  suppose  you  can  still  draw  a  straight  line  ? " 
he  asked  abruptly. 

Her  reply  was  a  quivering  laugh. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "I  don't  like  to  be 
too  sure.  Straighter  than  most  people,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"  Well,  then,  give  a  hand  to  the  folks  behind  you  ! 
There's  a  village  school  in  your  parts,  I  suppose  ? 
Why  not  go  and  teach  the  bairns  to  draw  ?  I  don't 
care  much  about  pictures,  but  many's  the  time  I 
have  felt  the  want  of  not  being  able  to  make  a  bit  of 
a  diagram.  Why,  there  are  times  when  a  few  straight 
lines  save  a  world  of  words,  and  that's  a  good  job, 
if  nothing  else  is.  Depend  upon  it,"  he  went  on, 
warming  to  his  work  as  he  felt  the  ground  firmer 
beneath  his  feet,  "  you'll  never  be  so  badly  placed 
but  what  you'll  find  some  bit  of  work  at  hand  that 
you  can  do  well.  That's  enough  to  keep  any  man 
sane,  I  take  it.  If  you  probe  your  trouble  to  the 
bottom,  you'll  find  you  are  fretting  yourself  to  death 
because  you  can't  do  the  thing  you  want  to.  Well, 
you  must  just  make  up  your  mind  to  that.  Neither 
I  nor  anybody  else  can  help  you  there.  The  work 
you  want  to  do  won't  go  undone,  never  fear.  Some- 
body else  is  sure  to  do  it  for  you.  Your  business  is 
to  come  down  a  step,  and  do  the  thing  you  can. 
God  bless  my  soul,  child ! "  he  broke  forth  im- 
petuously, "  who  are  you  that  you  should  pick  and 
choose  ?  Don't  you  suppose  we've  all  had  our 
dreams  ?  " 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


17 


There  was  no  answer,  and  he  did  not  seem  to 
expect  one. 

"  For  the  rest,"  he  went  on,  drawing  down  his 
brows  more  grimly,  as  if  a  disagreeable  duty  had  to 
be  got  over,  the  sooner  the  better, — "  for  the  rest, 
your  artist  friend  was  quite  right.  You've  got  the 
glass  of  your  telescope  all  smudged  and  begrimed, 
and  here  you  are  (yes,  in  that  respect  you  are  a 
fool,  no  doubt !)  straining  your  weary  eyes  to  see 
through  it !  You'd  be  better  employed  if  you'd  rub 
up  your  lenses  a  bit,  and  let  the  stars  take  care  of 
themselves ! " 

She  looked  up  half-puzzled,  but  with  a  dawning 
smile  of  appreciation  ;  and  he  smiled  too,  in  spite  of 
himself,  well  pleased  that  she  understood. 

Then  he  put  away  his  pipe,  and,  frowning,  shut 
the  shabby  bag  with  a  snap. 

*'  Quite  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  great  astronomer, 
I  admit,"  he  said,  "  to  see  that  his  glass  is  kept  clean, 
but  his  work  won't  be  good  for  much  if  he  doesn't ! 
Well,  here  I  am  !  Do  you  go  much  farther  ?  Hallo, 
what's  up  ? " 

The  quiet  wayside  station  was  a  scene  of  un- 
wonted excitement,  and  almost  before  the  train  had 
stopped,  the  station-master  opened  the  carriage-door. 

"  There's  been  a  terrible  accident  at  the  pit,  sir," 
he  said,  "and  everybody  is  crying  out  for  you. 
Your  man  has  the  gig  at  the  gate." 

Without  even  lifting  his  hat,  the  doctor  was 
gone ;  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  the  little  girl  with 
the  head  like  a  Scotch  bluebell  passed  out  of  his 
mind  almost  as  completely  as  if  they  had  never  met. 


l8  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


II. 


The  rain  had  almost  ceased  now,  but  a  drenching 
white  mist  enshrouded  everything,  making  its  way 
into  many  an  unsuspected  crevice.  The  day  was 
darkening  fast,  and  the  wheels  of  the  doctor's  gig 
splashed  heavily  along  the  muddy  road. 

"  Shoe  loose,  sir!  "  exclaimed  the  young  groom. 

"  Well,"  growled  the  doctor,  "  I  suppose  I  have 
ears  as  well  as  you  !  " 

Poor  old  doctor !  You  will  see  that  his  temper 
had  not  improved  in  the  last  ten  or  twelve  years. 

The  lad  looked  injured.  He  was  wet  and  hungry 
too. 

"We're  so  near  the  smithy,  sir,"  he  said,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  whose  wisdom  and  foresight  are  not 
adequately  acknowledged  by  his  contemporaries. 

"  Confound  the  smithy !  "  was  the  surly  reply. 
"  That's  the  man  who  lamed  Darby  a  month  ago. 
I  said  then  I'd  never  go  back  to  him,  and  I  won't. 
Darby  will  get  home  all  right.  I'll  take  Joan  out 
to-morrow." 

But,  even  as  he  said  it,  the  horse  began  to  limp 
unmistakably. 

"  Just  get  down  and  look  at  his  foot,  will  you  ? 
It's  the  off  hind.    What  like's  the  shoe  ?  " 

The  lad  dismounted  as  quickly  as  his  stiff  cold 
limbs  would  allow. 

"  There's  a  nail  come  loose,  that's  pricking  him, 
sir;  and  I  can't  get  it  out  without  the  pinchers." 

"And  where  the  deuce  are  the  pinchers,  I'd  like 
to  know  ?    Bless  my  soul !     I  might  as  well  bring  a 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


X9 


tame  cat  out  with  me  for  all  the  good  you  are  !  Pull 
off  the  shoe,  and  look  sharp  !  He'll  go  well  enough 
without  it  for  all  the  distance." 

The  lad  stared  in  amazement. 

"  Hall  right,  sir,"  he  said ;  and  a  moment  later 
he  added  cheerfully,  "  There's  a  lot  of  metal  on  the 
road,  sir." 

"  Light  the  lamps,"  said  the  doctor,  pretending 
not  to  hear  the  last  remark.  "  We'll  be  having  an 
accident  next." 

In  another  minute  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
smithy,  which  stood  some  distance  back  from  the 
road.  The  blacksmith's  quick  ear  had  caught  the 
false  ring  of  the  loose  shoe  in  the  distance,  and  he 
stood  now,  expectant  in  the  doorway,  his  figure 
forming  a  fine  silhouette,  with  the  ruddy  glow  of  the 
furnace  behind  it. 

When  the  gig  had  rattled  past,  he  returned  to  his 
forge,  with  a  scowl  that  gave  way  to  a  smile. 

"  Anybody  else  'd  'a  bin  glad  to  warm  hisself  at 
the  smithy  fire  on  a  night  like  this, — were't  nought 
else,"  said  he;  "but  the  doctor's'  the  doctor.  Well, 
he'll  find  that  two  can  play  at  that  game !  My 
missis  must  just  make  shift  wi'  the  new  man  when 
her  time  comes  round.  They  say  he's  clever,  for  all 
he's  so  young." 

Meanwhile  the  doctor  tossed  the  reins  to  his 
companion,  and  resigned  himself,  as  he  had  so  often 
done  before,  to  passive,  hopeless  endurance  of  his 
discomfort.  There  were  worse  troubles  after  all 
than  rain  and  wind  and  cold,  and — and  Ethel  had 
been  more  ailing  and  fretful  than  usual  that  morn- 


20  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

ing.  Polly  would  be  at  home,  to  be  sure, — bless  her 
sonsie  face !  If  only  she  and  he  could  have  a  quiet 
hour  together  by  the  study  fire !  But  what  would 
Ethel  say  to  that  ? 

Poor  thing,  poor  thing  !  It  was  a  shame  to  find 
fault  with  her.  What  wonder,  with  her  ill  health, 
that  she  was  jealous  and  peevish  ?  If  she  could  only 
get  to  Bournemouth  for  a  month  or  two,  with  that 
spoilt  boy  of  hers,  it  would  do  her  all  the  good  in 
the  world.  But,  alas,  the  moon  itself  was  not  less 
attainable  than  Bournemouth  just  now,  when  there 
seemed  to  be  no  prospect  of  paying  the  butcher's 
bill,  let  alone  the  school  and  college  fees  that  were 
rapidly  becoming  due  ! 

The  doctor  leaned  forward  with  a  groan,  and,  as 
he  did  so,  a  stream  of  water  from  his  shabby  um- 
brella made  its  icy  way  inside  his  soaked  woollen 
comforter;  but  he  did  not  flinch.  What  mattered 
one  small  discomfort  the  more  ?  Darby  was  dead 
lame  now,  but  at  least  they  were  at  home. 

"  Let  him  stand  with  his  foot  in  a  pail  of  cold 
water,"  said  the  doctor.  "  He'll  not  be  much  the 
worse." 

"Yes,  sir,"  and  the  lad  shrugged  his  shoulders  in 
the  darkness. 

"  Oh,  dad,  darling !  "  cried  Polly's  eager  voice. 
"  Come  in  quick  !  There's  a  lovely  fire  in  the  study, 
and  all  sorts  of  things  warming  for  you,  I'll  go  and 
see  about  dinner  while  you  change.  Nonsense ! 
I  shall  kiss  you  if  I  choose."  There  was  just  the 
least  suggestion  of  pathos  in  her  laugh  as  she  added, 
"  My  poor  old  frock  won't  hurt." 


AFTER  MANY  DAYS.  2 1 

The  doctor  paused  for  a  momenj^  outside  the  sit- 
ting-room door.  He  knew  he  ought  to  look  in,  and 
say  just  a  word  to  his  wife,  but  he  could  not  do  it,  so 
he  tramped  on  to  his  own  room. 

The  warmth  and  glow  cheered  him  in  spite  of 
himself,  and  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  when  he 
went  in  to  dinner,  he  stopped  to  kiss  the  pale  woman 
on  the  sofa. 

"Well,  old  lady,"  he  said  with  gruff  kindness, 
"  how  do  you  feel  now  ? " 

Poor  Ethel !  She  had  thought  of  him  so  much 
all  day,  when  she  heard  the  rain  pattering  against 
the  window-panes;  but  now  that  she  had  listened  to 
Polly's  eager  greeting  in  the  hall,  her  own  kind 
words  froze  on  her  lips. 

"  It  matters  little  how  I  feel,"  she  said. 

The  doctor  was  sorely  tempted  to  say  that  it 
mattered  a  good  deal  to  him  how  she  felt,  when  he 
came  in  at  night  worn  out  and  longing  for  rest ;  but, 
with  a  mighty  effort,  he  held  his  peace.  He  knew 
her  well  enough  to  be  quite  sure  that  she  would 
have  given  a  good  deal  not  to  speak  those  chilling 
words ;  but  he  knew  too  that  the  remorse  she  felt 
would  not  prevent  her  from  doing  the  same  thing 
again  and  again  and  again,  though  all  the  time  she 
was  acutely  conscious  that  such  words  were  daily 
widening  the  breach  between  her  husband  and  her- 
self. 

Fortunately  Polly  came  in  at  this  moment.  When 
she  was  at  home  she  never  allowed  the  slatternly 
maid-of-all-work  to  wait  on  her  father.  As  soon  as 
she  had  left  the  room  with  the  empty  soup-plate, 


22  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

Ethel  tried  to  say  something  kind.  It  would  not 
have  been  possible  for  her  to  say  it  in  Polly's  hear- 
ing. It  was  always  so  easy  for  the  bright  attractive 
idolized  girl  to  trump  her  stepmother's  ace. 

*'  You  must  be  very  tired,"  she  remarked  gently. 
"  I  hope  you  won't  be  called  out  again  to-night." 

"I'm  sure  I  hope  not.  Has  anybody  been  ?  Some- 
body said  Mrs.  Steele's  boy  was  ill." 

His  tone  did  not  respond  to  her  advance,  and  she 
answered  coldly. 

"  Yes,  Jane  saw  Dr.  Maxwell's  carriage  at  the 
Steeles'  door." 

"  Nonsense  !     Not  Mrs.  Steele's  !  " 

"Yes." 

"  She  must  have  known  I  was  away,  and  got 
frightened " 

"  No,"  continued  Ethel  firmly.  "  Jane  spoke  to 
the  coachman,  and  he  said  Mrs.  Steele  had  men- 
tioned in  her  message  that  she  wanted  Dr.  Maxwell 
to  attend  them  for  the  future." 

"  Shows  what  a  confounded  cad  the  man  must  be 
to  undertake  it  without  a  word  to  me.  I'll  see  myself 
far  enough  before  I  help  him  out  of  a " 

The  doctor  stopped  short.  With  all  his  faults  and 
misfortunes,  he  had  not  sunk  so  low  as  that.  So  he 
changed  the  line  of  attack. 

"  I  wish  to  goodness,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  you 
would  forbid  your  servants  to  chatter  all  over  the 
place.  The  wonder  is  that  I  have  any  patients  at 
all,  with  all  this  backstairs  gossip  going  on." 

"  Pray  ring  the  bell,  and  give  any  orders  you 
choose.     It  is  two  months  now  since  you  asked  me 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


23 


to  put  a  stop  to  Susan's  gossiping — or  was  it  Mary- 
Ann  then  ?  I  did  my  poor  best,  with  the  result  that 
each  tit-bit  was  flavoured  with,  'Now  mind  you  don't 
let  on  as  I  told  you.  They'd  be  that  mad  if  it  got 
talked  about.'  " 

To  show  an  angry  man  that  he  is  wrong  is  rarely 
the  way  to  pacify  him  ;  but  Ethel  had  not  finished 
her  say. 

"As  to  Mrs.  Steele,"  she  continued,  with  a  bitter 
little  smile,  "  I  have  been  expecting  it  all  along. 
There  are  not  many  eligible  men  in  this  place,  and 
her  two  eldest  daughters  are  getting  on  !  " 

He  might  have  said  the  same  thing  himself  in  a 
cynical  moment,  but  he  could  not  stand  it  from  her. 

"  Well,  of  all  the  women  who  belittle  their  own 
sex,"  he  exclaimed  angrily,  pushing  his  chair  back 
from  the  table,  "  you  are  about  the  worst !  I 
don't  wonder  Polly  calls  herself  a  '  woman's  rights 
woman  ' ! " 

"  Nor  do  I,"  was  the  quick  rejoinder,  "  when  her 
father  gives  in  to  every  whim  she  has.  If  it  were 
poor  little  Algy  now " 

"  I  am  so  sorry  you  have  had  to  wait,  father 
dear  !  "  said  Polly,  entering  the  room  with  a  tray, 
her  bright  face  flushed  with  her  unwonted  culinary 
experiments.  "  I  was  showing  Jane  how  a  steak 
ougki  to  be  cooked,  and  she  says  my  way  takes 
'longer  than  hers  !  " 

She  set  down  the  tray,  and  looked  up  with  a 
smile  at  her  own  expense;  but  the  smile  vanished  in 
a  moment  when  she  saw  the  faces  of  the  other  two. 
Things  had  never  been  so  bad  as  this  when  she  had 


24  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

been  at  home  before ;  and  now,  of  course,  it  was  not 
to  be  expected  of  human  nature  that  she  should  see 
both  sides  of  the  question. 

"  Oh,  poor  Father !  "  she  said,  leaning  her  head 
wearily  against  the  wall  when  she  had  left  the  room, 
"  and  there  will  be  no  end  to  it — no  end — no  end  !  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  when  the  door  had  closed 
behind  her,  "you  were  saying  something,  I  think. 
If  it  were  Algernon ? " 

"  7'/^(?r(r/"  exclaimed  Ethel  indignantly.  "It  all 
lies  in  that  one  word — Algernon.  You  have  your  own 
Jack  and  Polly.  Would  you  speak  of  a  son  of  your 
own  as  Algernon  ?  " 

"  God  forbid,"  said  he  devoutly,  "  that  any  son 
of  mine  should  come  by  such  a  name !  But  " — he 
attacked  the  steak  vigorously — "  I'm  blest  if  I  know 
what  you  would  have !  I'm  rough  enough  with  my 
tongue  at  times,  God  knows!  But  I've  never  said  a 
rough  word  to  him." 

"  Precisely  !  "  she  answered  bitterly.  "  You  have 
said  plenty  of  rough  words  to  Polly." 

"  Look  here,  Ethel,"  he  said,  forcing  himself  to 
speak  calmly.  "We've  been  over  this  ground  a 
hundred  times;  but,  if  it  will  give  you  any  satisfac- 
tion, we'll  go  over  it  for  the  hundred  and  first.  My 
bairns  have  faults  of  their  own,  and,  as  you  say,  I've 
been  down  on  them  sharply  enough ;  but  at  least  I 
have  some  idea  w/ial  they  would  he  at.  Your  son  I 
simply  cannot  understand.  His  mother  thinks  and 
plans  for  his  welfare  night  and  day,  but  he  never 
gives  her  a  thought  in  return  :  with  infinite  trouble 
we  get  him  on  the  foundation  at  Charterhouse,  and 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


25 


— after  being  warned — he  gets  himself  expelled.  No 
doubt  I'm  old-fashioned  and  out  of  date,  but  I 
frankly  confess  that  a  lad  of  that  kind  has  no  place 
in  my  reckoning.  I  ventured  once  or  twice  to  say  a 
word,  a  word  meant  in  all  kindness;  but  you  know 
what  the  result  of  that  was.  I  don't  want  to  be 
hard  on  any  one  whose  nature  is  a  complete  enigma 
to  me,  so  I  simply  give  him  a  wide  berth." 

"  Poor  little  Algy  !  "  she  sobbed.  "  I  sometimes 
think  it  would  have  been  better  for  him — if — if — 
you  had  never  made  that  journey  twelve  years  ago, 
and  saved  his  life  !  " 

The  doctor  smiled  grimly.  So  he  and  his  wife 
had  one  thought  in  common  after  all. 

"And  no  doubt  you  think  the  next  journey  I 
made  in  the  same  direction  might  also  have  been 
omitted  with  advantage  ? " 

She  sobbed  outright.  "  Oh,  I  know  you  only  did 
it  out  of  pity !  and  I  have  been  a  terrible  drag  on 
you  ever  since  !  If  it  were  not  for  Algy,  I  should 
pray  God " 

"  Oh,  drop  that !"  he  cried  savagely;  and  then 
he  was  ashamed  of  himself. 

"  Look  here,  Ethel,"  he  said,  rising  and  sitting 
on  the  sofa  beside  her.  "  Can't  you  see  that  I  am 
dead-tired,  and  sick  at  heart  ?  Don't  hit  a  fellow 
when  he's  down  !  " 

She  was  genuinely  sorry  for  him,  and  strove  to 
forgive  the  bitter  words.  "  Well,  dear,"  she  said, 
stroking  his  rough  hand,  "you  know  you  have 
brought  a  double  day's  work  upon  yourself,  because 
Polly  plagued  you  to  take  her  to  town  to-morrow. 


26  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

And  then — if  you  will  give  your  son  and  daughter 
an  expensive  education — why  do  you  stay  on  here  ? 
You  are  only  losing  one  patient  after  another. 
What  chance  can  you  possibly  have  against  an  un- 
married man  with  ;i^3oo  a-year  of  his  own  ?  The 
butcher  has  been  here  again  to-day " 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  with  an  oath  on  his  lips, 
and  just  then  Jane  opened  the  door. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  she  said,  "  that's  Jim  to 
know  if  there's  any  more  orders." 

'*  No,"  said  the  doctor  shortly.  "  You  said  no 
one  wanted  me  ? "  he  added,  turning  to  his  wife. 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  Mrs.  Napier  sent  to  ask  if 
you  would  look  in  to-morrow  or  next  day." 

The  doctor  sighed.  **  Good  soul ! "  he  said 
wearily. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Ethel  quietly;  "  but  1  think  it 
would  puzzle  you  to  name  her  complaint.  If  I  had 
a  face  like  a  winter  apple  I'd  be  ashamed  to  have 
a  doctor  dangling  about  me  continually.  Talk  of 
fancies !  " 

"Ay,"  he  said  sternly,  splitting  a  large  coal  with 
a  neat  thrust  of  the  poker.  "  She's  given  to  fancies, 
and  she's  taken  a  mighty  queer  one  at  present.  She 
thinks  she  sees  the  wolf  approaching  the  door  of  an 
old  friend,  and  she's  minded  to  ward  it  off  if  she 
can.  The  simplest  thing' would  b^to  send  him  a 
cheque  for  ^20  or  so — upon  my  soul,  I  don't  know 
that  I'd  refuse  it ! — but  she  thinks  I'd  be  insulted,  so 
she  puts  herself  to  infinite  trouble  and  invents  no 
end  of  imaginary  ailments.  She  must  know  that  I 
see  through  it  all ;  I  don't  think  she  ever  took  me 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


27 


exactly  for  a  fool ;  but  she  knows  too  (God  help 
me!)  that  I  can't  afford  to  charge  her  with  it." 

He  shook  himself  like  a  great  dog,  and  strode 
out  of  the  room. 

"  Polly,"  he  shouted  recklessly.  "  Come  and  have 
a  chat  in  the  study  !  " 

Polly  needed  no  second  call.  In  another  moment 
she  was  seated  on  the  rug,  with  her  head  on  her 
father's  knee — in  one  of  those  easy  unconstrained 
attitudes  that  bespeak  long  habit. 

He  lighted  his  precious  old  meerschaum,  and,  for 
a  time,  they  sat  in  silence. 

"  Heigho,  Polly,"  he  said  at  last.  "  It's  a  weary 
world !  " 

She  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  She  had  wanted 
so  much  to  speak. 

"  I've  been  horribly  selfish,  Dad  darling,"  she 
said,  "  but  indeed  it  was  sheer  stupidity.  I  did  hon- 
estly think  that  a  day  in  town  would  be  a  sort  of  a 
holiday  for  you  too  !  " 

"And  so  it  will,  my  bird,"  he  said,  striving  to 
speak  cheerfully;  "you  won't  ask  me  to  look  at 
pictures  a// day,  will  you." 

"  Poor  bullied  old  Dad  !  I'll  tell  you  my  plan. 
We'll  go  straight  to  the  Academy,  so  as  to  see  the 
pictures  in  some  peace  before  the  crowd  comes ;  and 
you  and  I  will  trot  round  for  about  an  hour.  Then 
the  Trelawneys  are  to  meet  me, — I  shall  be  so  proud 
to  show  them  my  noble  old  Dad,  with  his  'crown  of 
glory  ' ! — and  in  due  season  they  will  carry  me  off  to 
lunch.  You  will  be  under  oath  to  get  a  good  lunch 
too,  and  then  you  shall  spend  the  whole  afternoon 
3 


28  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

with  your  cronies.  You  always  have  so  much  to  say 
to  them," 

He  winced.  The  main  thing  he  had  to  say  to 
them  next  day  was  that  he  must  borrow  money 
somewhere !  But  there  was  no  need  to  tell  Polly 
that. 

"Then,"  she  continued,  "the  Trelawneys  will 
conduct  me  to  the  station  in  the  evening  to  meet 
you " 

"  Ay,"  he  said,  "  in  a  carriage  and  pair,  with  a 
footman  to  wait  on  my  Polly.  Poor  little  Cinder- 
ella! and  it  has  all  got  to  turn  into  a  pumpkin 
again  !  " 

"  Now  that  is  exactly  what  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
about.  It  ought  never  to  be  anything  but  a  pump- 
kin. I  hate  to  drive  in  state  while  my  grand  old 
dad  goes  on  the  top  of  the  bus.  I  only  come  by  my 
smart  friends  because  you  insist  on  sending  me  to  a 
first-class  school.  My  honours  are  earned  by  the 
sweat  of  your  brow,  and  they're  too  dear, — a  world 
too  dear  !  I  won't  have  it.  No,  no.  Dad !  My 
education  is  finished.  Once  for  all  I  am  on  strike. 
/  won't  go  back  !  " 

He  did  not  speak  immediately. 

"Polly,  lass,"  he  said  at  length,  "you  know  it's 
an  old-fashioned  fad  of  mine  that  my  bairns  should 
do  as  they're  bid ;  but  I'll  give  you  my  reasons  for 
this.  I  have  often  told  you  that  your  grandfather 
and  grandmother  were  quite  common  folk — as  this 
world  reckons  commonness  ;  but  they  were  proud 
and  Scotch,  and  they  made  up  their  minds  that  their 
son  should  go  to  college.     So  they  stinted  and  well- 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


29 


nigh  starved,  and  in  due  time  I  took  my  degree. 
My  Mother  was  never  given  to  wearing  her  heart  on 
her  sleeve,  but  when  she  saw  me  capped,  she  sobbed 
out  loud,  so  that  all  the  people  round  could  hear — 
'  That's  him  noo  !  That's  oor  Jock  ! '  As  if  it  was 
me  all  the  folk  had  come  to  see  !  " 

He  stopped  and  bit  his  lip. 

"  They've  both  been  in  the  kirkyard  this  many  a 
year,"  he  said;  "but  I  can't  bear  to  think  that  my 
Mother's  saving  and  starving  should  all  have  been 
for  nought."  He  paused  and  broke  in  eagerly  upon 
his  own  thoughts.  "  It  wasn't  for  nought,  Polly, 
lass,"  he  cried.  "It  wasn't  for  nought!  No  doubt 
I'd  have  done  better  at  the  plough,  but  I  can  at 
least  give  a  lift  to  my  bairns  ;  and  it  was  for  them 
she  saved,  Polly,  not  for  me.     Don't  you  see  ? " 

But  Polly  saw  nothing — with  her  bodily  eye  at 
least — save  a  blazing  blur  of  flame  through  a  blind- 
ing mist  of  tears. 

"  I  once  made  sure  you'd  marry,"  he  went  on 
after  a  pause;  "but  it's  astonishing  how  a  man's 
notions  change ;  and  at  least  I  won't  have  you 
driven  to  do  it.  You  are  just  the  sort  of  lass  who 
could  make  her  own  way,  if  you  were  so  minded  ; 
and  your  education  isn't  going  to  prevent  your  tak- 
ing the  right  man  if  you  find  him." 

There  was  another  long  silence  before  he  con- 
tinued— 

"You're  so  nearly  through,  now,  both  you  and 
Jack,  that  I'd  be  loath  to  give  it  up.  I  may  be 
driven  to  it,  but  I'll  live  on  oatcake  and  brose  first ! 
Such  a  little  would  do  it !     I  only  want  a  lift  for  the 


30 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


next  year  or  two.  I  don't  deny  that  there's  some 
difficulty  just  now,  but  I  can't  think  but  what  we'll 
get  past  it  somehow.  I'll  be  honest  with  you,  Polly, 
because  I  know  you  won't  make  a  fuss  when  you 
see  it's  for  your  father's  sake  as  well  as  for  your 
own  ; — when  you  know  that  the  education  of  his 
bairns  is  your  poor  old  dad's  main  stake  in  life 
nowadays.  I  lost  some  hundreds  this  winter  in  an 
investment.  I've  aye  been  over  canny  with  my 
money,  so  Dame  Fortune  turned  her  back  on  me 
when  I  lippened  to  her  for  once.  And  then — al- 
though this  new  man  hasn't  taken  many  of  my  pa- 
tients, he  has  taken  some  of  the  ones  that  pay  best. 
You  see  he  lives  in  style  compared  with  me;  and  it's 
something  worth  paying  for  to  have  a  carriage  like 
that  stop  at  one's  door  !  " 

This  was  the  first  time  the  subject  of  the  new 
doctor  had  been  broached  between  father  and 
daughter. 

"I  can't  think  how  they  can  be  such  fools!"  cried 
Polly  indignantly.  "  A  whipper-snapper  like  that  \ 
And,  Father,  if  you  only  saw  how  he  bandaged  Joe 
Simpson's  leg !  I  am  sure  Darby  could  have  done  it 
better." 

"Ay,"  said  he.  "He's  one  of  the  kind  they  turn 
out  in  plenty  nowadays ;  all  theory  and  no  grit.  I 
am  told  he  laughs  at  what  he  is  pleased  to  call  my 
'exploded  idees ' ;  but  give  us  an  epidemic  or  a  pit 
accident,  and  I'd  like  to  know  where  he'd  be !  I 
can't  think  that  it'll  last.  I've  taken  his  measure 
pretty  well,  and  surely  other  folks  will  do  the  same 
in  time.     They  may  want  to  marry  their  daughters, 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


31 


as  Ethel  says  ;  but  they  can't  want  to  bury  them. 
The  fact  is,  he's  the  fashion  just  now,  and  it's  mainly 
my  own  fault.  I  have  been  so  crabbed  and  cross- 
grained  at  times,  and  folk  couldn't  know  all  I  had 
to  worry  me." 

Polly  did  not  answer.  Her  father  had  never 
taken  her  into  his  confidence  like  this  before,  and 
her  words  would  not  come. 

"  But  you  mustn't  blame  Ethel,"  he  continued 
presently.  "God  knows  it's  more  my  fault  than 
hers!  The  truth  is,  we've  seen  too  much  of  each 
other  lately.  If  she  could  only  get  away  for  a 
change,  we  might  both  make  a  fresh  start;  but  of 
course  that  is  out  of  the  question.  Well,  good 
night,  little  woman  !  You  should  have  been  asleep 
an  hour  ago." 

She  rose  and  kissed  him.  "  Oh,  if  only  every- 
body knew  what  a  hero  my  daddy  is  !  " 

"There,  there!"  said  he  smiling.  "He's  a  poor 
grumpy  old  fellow  ;  but  you  can  tell  the  folks  he 
wants  no  pity  as  long  as  he's  got  his  lass !  " 


HI. 

Truly  a  fickle  goddess  is  this  weather  of  ours! 
After  days  of  rain  and  wintry  cold,  the  sun  rose  into 
an  unclouded  sky,  and  the  gay  toilettes  on  the  steps 
of  Burlington  House  were  a  wonder  and  delight  to 
happy  Polly, 

"  Don't  get  a  catalogue,  Dad,"  she  whispered. 
"We  don't  need  it  a  bit." 


32 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


The  next  moment  she  could  scarcely  believe  in 
her  own  tactlessness;  but  her  father  was  in  no  mood 
to  take  offence. 

"All  right,  my  bairn,"  he  said  kindly.  "It  isn't 
a  shilling  catalogue  that  will  make  me  or  break  me." 

So  they  got  the  catalogue,  and  made  their  way 
into  the  great  galleries,  feeling  lost  and  bewildered, 
as  well  they  might ;  but,  before  they  had  gone  far, 
a  friend  of  the  doctor's  came  up  to  them  with  out- 
stretched hand, 

"Well,"  he  said  quietly,  when  the  conversation 
came  to  a  natural  pause,  "  did  you  sit  for  the  por- 
trait ? " 

"What  on  earth  do  you  mean?" 

His  friend  looked  at  him  in  musing  scrutiny. 

"  It  was  not  taken  yesterday,"  he  said,  "  nor  yet 
last  year.  Now  that  I  see  you  the  resemblance 
strikes  me  less ;  but  it  is  certainly  there.  One  of  the 
pictures  of  the  year,  too,  by  Jove!  But  there!  Go 
and  see  it  for  yourself — 241." 

Polly  hastily  turned  up  the  number  in  her  cata- 
logue. 

"  The  Shadow  of  a  great  Rock,"  she  read  out. 

*^What.'"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  He  had  not 
forgotten  the  day  when  Ethel  spoke  those  memor- 
able words. 

Polly  repeated  the  name;  and,  without  another 
word,  they  made  their  way  up  to  the  picture. 

It  was  well  hung;  and  the  pleasant  balancing  of 
light  and  shade,  together  with  the  warm  broad  har- 
mony of  colour,  would  have  struck  an  art  critic  who 
saw  it  from  the  other  end  of  the  room ;  but  it  was 


AFTER    MANY   DAYS. 


33 


not  such  things  as  these  that  interested  the  doctor. 
Unless  the  anatomy  of  a  figure,  or  the  general  per- 
spective, was  gravely  at  fault,  he  saw  little  in  a 
painting  beyond  its  subject,  and  a  certain  ill-defined 
quality  which  he  called  "life-likeness."  In  other 
words,  so  far  as  his  criticism  went,  it  was  good. 

And  certainly  there  was  nothing  to  jar  on  him 
here. 

The  picture  represented  a  garret,  with  a  poor 
bed,  on  which  a  sick  girl  lay  apparently  asleep. 
The  doctor  stood  by  her  side,  in  a  stream  of  light 
from  above,  his  whole  being  absorbed  in  observa- 
tion and  profound  thought,  one  hand  resting  on  the 
patient's  wrist  so  gently  that  she  did  not  stir,  the 
other  held  up  quietly  to  prevent  the  eager  mother, 
who  had  just  rushed  into  the  room,  from  awakening 
her. 

A  number  of  artists  were  discussing  the  tech- 
nical value  of  the  picture;  but,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  public,  its  great  merit  lay  in  the  doctor's 
face. 

It  was  not  that  of  the  ideal  Christ,  as  painters 
have  loved  to  picture  it  under  all  conditions :  there 
were  too  many  hard  lines  in  it  for  that.  It  was 
rather — if  one  may  be  allowed  the  comparison — the 
face  of  Jehovah,  as  He  might  have  appeared  to  a 
devout  Jew  in  the  days  of  Isaiah, — all-seeing,  reso- 
lute, self-contained,  yet  with  strangely  tender  lines 
about  the  mouth.  One  felt  that  the  brain  behind 
that  face  had  grasped  the  situation  down  to  its  mi- 
nutest details,  though  not  a  ripple  of  emotion  was 
allowed  to  appear  on  the  surface ;  and,  on  gazing, 


34 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


one  became  conscious  of  a  sensation  of  infinite  rest; 
one  ceased  to  ask  what  was  the  matter,  or  whether 
the  girl  would  live  or  die.  It  was  enough  that  a 
man  with  a  face  like  that  had  taken  the  burden  on 
his  shoulders. 

"  It  is  an  inspiration,"  said  one  gazer,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes.  "  She  can  never  have  seen  a  face  like 
that !  "  and,  though  the  speaker  unconsciously  turned 
to  the  doctor  as  she  spoke,  it  never  occurred  to  her 
to  think,  "  She  saw  it  here  !  " 

And  yet  it  was  like  him,  though  the  difference 
was  greater  far  than  the  resemblance.  It  was  his 
face  etherealized,  with  the  querulous  lines  of  irrita- 
tion wiped  ont,  and  something  kindled  behind  it 
purer,  nobler,  truer,  than  the  poor  old  doctor's  dim 
ideals. 

"  I  am  free  to  confess,"  said  their  cicerone  after  a 
long  silence,  "  that  it  is  somewhat  idealized,  but  you 
see  the  resemblance,  don't  you?"- 

"  It's  not  a  bit  idealized  !  "  said  Polly  indignantly. 
"  Of  course  he  doesn't  look  like  that  when  Jane  lights 
the  fire  with  the  British  Medical,  but  \i you  sat  on  the 
rug  at  his  feet  as  I  do  in  the  evening " 

"  He  would  doubtless  say,  '  Get  out,  you  beast ! ' 
but  I  daren't  even  picture  to  myself  how  he  would 
look !  " 

The  doctor  had  not  been  listening  to  them.  "I 
can't  see  an  atom  of  resemblance,"  he  said  quietly. 
"Who  painted  it  ?  " 

"  Miss  Beauchamp.  She  has  been  coming  steadily 
to  the  front  for  some  time,  but  there  is  no  doubt  this 
is  her  chef  d'oeuvre.     She  told  a  friend  of  mine  she 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


35 


had  had  it  in  her  mind  for  years.  If  you  don't  mind 
waiting,  I  may  be  able  to  point  her  out  to  you ! 
She's  not  above  the  pretty  weakness  of  listening  to 
the  criticisms  of  outsiders.  She  has  had  a  number* 
of  good  pictures  in  the  Academy,  and  my  friend  says 
the  success  of  her  studio  is  astonishing.  She  has  a 
perfect  genius  for  teaching, — or  perhaps  an  'infinite 
capacity  for  taking  pains ' !  I  believe  she  can't  take 
half  the  pupils  who  want  to  come  to  her.  There's  a 
fine  tocher  awaiting  the  happy  man  when  he  comes 
along,  but  they  say  she's  quite  content  as  she  is. 
She's  not  young,  either, — not  so  young  as  she  looks. 
Here  she  comes, — watch  !  " 

They  did  watch,  with  the  result  that  the  approach- 
ing lady's  attention  was  attracted  in  a  moment.  She 
glanced  at  all  three,  but  she  only  looked  at  the  doctor, 
and — as  the  look  deepened  into  a  gaze — a  wonderful, 
spontaneous  smile  and  blush  swept  over  her  sweet, 
frank  face. 

"Oh,"  she  cried  impulsively,  holding  out  both 
hands,  "how  I  have  longed  to  meet  you  again  !  " 

The  doctor  was  no  society  man  at  the  best  of 
times,  and  now  he  was  more  completely  taken  aback 
than  he  had  ever  been  in  his  life  before.  He  was 
profoundly  conscious  of  the  faintly  perfumed  pres- 
ence of  a  beautifully  dressed  woman,  in  whom  the 
lithe  slimness  of  girlhood  was  giving  place  to  the 
matronly  curves  of  middle  life;  but  his  amazement 
and  perplexity  were  so  great  as  scarcely  to  leave 
room  even  for  regret  that  so  charming  a  greeting 
could  not  possibly  be  meant  for  him. 

"  I  am  sure  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  he  stam- 


36  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

mered  out  with  an  awkward  bow,  "  but  I'm  afraid 
you  have  made  a  mistake." 

"  Oh,  no,  that  is  impossible !  But  if  I  had  not 
been  taken  so  completely  by  surprise,  I  should  not 
have  forgotten  that  you  could  not  possibly  remem- 
ber me.  Shall  we  go  over  to  that  settee — people 
will  stare  so  if  we  talk  in  front  of  my  own  picture — 
and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  ? " 

She  leaned  back  with  the  air  of  a  woman  accus- 
tomed to  luxurious  surroundings,  while  the  doctor 
sat  bolt  upright,  prepared  to  take  himself  off  at  a 
moment's  notice,  so  certain  was  he  that  this  curious 
interview  must  come  to  a  speedy  end. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  remember,"  she  began  slowly, 
wondering  how  she  could  best  open  the  subject,  "a 
journey  you  made  from  Longhurst  to  Eastdean  some 
eleven  or  twelve  years  ago?  A  lady  in  mourning 
came  with  you  to  the  station " 

"  Yes,"  he  said  ;  and  he  added  gravely,  "  The  lady 
is  now  my  wife." 

"  Ah  !  "  she  answered  brightly,  *'  then  you  are  sure 
to  remember  it.  And — do  you  think  you  can  recall  a 
sickly  nervous  girl  who  happened  to  be  in  the  same 
compartment,  and  to  whom  you  were  surely  kinder 
than  ever  stranger  was  to  stranger  since  the  days  of 
the  Good  Samaritan  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  hard  for  a.  minute  or  so. 

"  God  bless  my  soul !  "  he  began,  almost  inaudibly. 
"  You  were  never  her  ?  " 

She  smiled. 

"  It  seems  to  come  back  to  me  that  I  have  seen 
you   somewhere,"   he   went   on   with   characteristic 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


37 


honesty,  forgetting  to  remove  his  trying  gaze. 
Years  had  taken  from  her  something  of  the  dainty, 
harebell  effect  by  which  he  could  best  have  recalled 
her.  "  But  I'd  never  have  recognized  you.  And 
yet   I   don't  know   how  I  could  forget  a  face  like 

yours.      I    remember   all    about   it   now "      He 

laughed  softly,  as  he  might  have  laughed  with  Polly 
at  the  remembrance  of  some  childish  folly  she  had 

long  outgrown.     *' You  were  vexed  because  you 

couldn't  paint !  " 

The  words  were  out  before  they  struck  him  as 
having  any  connection  with  the  present  circum- 
stances; and  now,  as  the  idea  rushed  tardily  into  his 
mind,  the  hot  blood  rushed  into  his  face. 

"  I  haven't  the  least  recollection  what  I  said  to 
you,"  he  stammered,  "  but  of  course  I  had  no  notion 
that  you  were  capable  of  the  like  of  that." 

"  I  suppose  that  is  why  you  did  me  so  much 
good,"  she  answered  quietly.  "  You  see  I  had  been 
frightfully  spoilt  by  my  artist  friends.  I  cared  for 
nothing  but  pictures  and  music.  I  hadn't  even  read 
Carlyle !  You  seemed  to  me  so  big  in  your  scorn  of 
my  gods.  You  took  me  out  of  myself  as  I  had 
never  been  taken  before ;  and  then  you  reminded 
me  that  each  of  us  is  responsible  first  of  all  for  being 
a  human  being.  If  in  addition  to  that  we  chance  to 
be  poets  or  musicians  or  painters,  the  added  respon- 
sibility is  entirely  a  secondary  one,  and  may  never 
for  a  moment  justly  usurp  the  place  of  the  first." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  the  doctor,  "that  you  are 
still  mistaking  me  for  someone  else.  I  have  nt) 
doubt  that  what  you  say  is  true ;  but  I  never  thought 


38 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


it,  much  less  said  it,  and  indeed  I'm  not  quite  sure 
that  I  even  understand  it !  " 

She  laughed  pleasantly.  "We  won't  argue  about 
it,"  she  said. 

'"As  long  as  my  life  endures, 
I  feel  I  shall  owe  you  a  debt, 
That  I  never  can  hope  to  pay.' 

If  you  have  forgotten  all  your  good  deeds,  as  you 
have  this  one — what  a  pleasant  surprise  you  will  get 
when  you  follow  after  them  to  judgment !  I  sup- 
pose," she  added,  half  wistfully,  after  a  pause,  "you 
are  engaged  to  lunch  ?" 

"  No,"  he  said,  turning  to  Polly  for  the  first  time. 
"  My  daughter  is,  but  I  am  not." 

Miss  Beauchamp's  soft  laugh  had  a  curious 
break  in  it,  that  might  almost  have  been  a  sob,  but 
for  her  beaming  eyes.  "  My  lucky  star  must  indeed 
be  in  the  ascendant  to-day  !  Is  this  your  daughter  ? 
I  hope  we  shall  be  good  friends  some  day,  and  I 
hope  you  will  let  me  make  the  acquaintance  of  your 
wife  too." 

Polly  had  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to 
introduce  her  father  to  Mrs.  Trelawney ;  and  now, 
after  a  few  friendly  words,  the  two  parties  sepa- 
rated. 

"  I  had  no  idea  you  knew  Miss  Beauchamp,"  said 
the  great  lady  to  Polly.  "  I  wonder  if  your  father 
would  say  a  word  to  her  for  Alice  ?  Miss  Beauchamp 
refused  her  as  a  pupil  on  the  ground  that  her  num- 
ber was  made  up  ;  but  your  father's  influence  might 
make  a  difference, — he  seems  to  know  her  well." 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


39 


And  Polly,  who  had  been  wondering  greatly  what 
might  be  the  meaning  of  the  morning's  proceedings, 
answered  discreetly — 

"I  will  speak  to  him  about  it  this  evening." 

Scarcely  a  word  passed  between  the  artist  and 
the  doctor,  as  they  made  their  way  to  her  home,  a 
fine  roomy  house  in  a  green  unfashionable  square. 
Fortunately  the  doctor  was  quite  unaware  of  the 
effect  of  the  spring  sunshine  on  his  shabby  Sunday 
coat ;  and  he  could  scarcely  have  believed  that  it 
wellnigh  brought  the  tears  to  his  companion's  eyes. 

"These  are  the  two  studios,"  she  said  brightly . 
"one  for  my  pupils  and  one  for  myself.  I  pay  them 
a  visit  more  or  less  often,  according  as  Jekyll  or 
Hyde  gets  the  upper  hand.  No,  no  !  You  didn't 
think  I  meant  to  take  you  round  !  I  am  sure  you 
have  seen  pictures  enough  for  one  day.  Come  to 
my  den !  " 

"And  now,"  he  said,  when  lunch  was  over,  and 
they  were  comfortably  installed  in  the  most  beauti- 
ful room  he  had  ever  seen,  "  I  want  to  hear  all  about 
it.     Did  you  get  safe  home  that  day  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  !  Fortunately  I  got  a  touch  of  pleurisy 
on  the  way  down,  and,  as  soon  as  the  doctor  could 
give  it  a  name,  of  course  I  didn't  care  what  befel  me. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  my  strength  really  came 
back  to  me,  though  I  *  rubbed  up  my  lenses  '  to  the 
best  of  my  ability.  But  it  was  the  other  part  of 
your  advice  that  came  to  me  like  a  tonic  when  I  was 
getting  stronger.  I  could  not  paint,  of  course ;  but 
it  was  perfectly  true  that  there  was  always  some 


40 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


simple  thing  at  hand  that  I  could  do  well ;  and  in- 
deed I  soon  learned  that,  if  you  do  a  thing  just 
tolerably,  people  are  only  too  ready  to  recognise  it 
and  to  say  *  Go  up  higher  ! ' 

"  Do  you  remember  telling  me  to  teach  in  the 
village  school  ?  It  was  a  long  time  before  they 
would  let  me,  but  I  got  my  way  at  last."  She 
laughed  at  the  recollection.  *•  Poor  little  chaps,  I 
am  afraid  it  was  sore  drudgery  for  most  of  them.  I 
hadn't  many  Raphaels  or  Angelos,  but  a  number 
learned  enough  to  be  useful,  and  I  think  one  or  two 
may  '  live  to  be  hung  ' !  " 

She  rose  from  her  low  easy-chair,  and,  kneeling 
on  the  soft  white  rug,  began  absently  to  brush  up 
the  hearth. 

"  By  the  way,"  she  said,  trying  to  speak  lightly 
in  spite  of  the  colour  that  rose  to  her  face,  "  you 
must  meet  all  sorts  of  people  in  your  practice.  If 
you  come  across  a  struggling  genius,  it  would  be  a 
real  kindness  to  let  me  know.  I  am  simply  rolling  in 
money."  Her  voice  shook  slightly,  and  the  move- 
ments of  the  hearthbrush  became  more  aimless  and 
uncertain.  "  It  is  not  only  my  pictures ;  they  bring 
in  a  windfall  from  time  to  time;  but  my  studio  is 
the  fashion  just  now,  and — with  my  quiet  ways — I 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  all  that  comes  in.  Com- 
fort, and  even  beauty,  cost  so  much  less  than 
show ! " 

The  colour  had  been  rising  steadily  in  his  rugged 
face  too.  Was  this  his  chance  ?  No,  no  !  Not  her  ! 
Not  her !  Think  of  presuming  on  a  fanciful  claim 
like  that,  when  he  had  not  even  recognized  her ! 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


41 


It  was  a  minute  before  he  spoke,  and  then  it  was 
only  to  say  very  gruffly, 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  it  is  time  I  was  going !  " 

"  No,  no ! "  she  said  desperately,  and,  as  she 
spoke,  a  vivid  mental  picture  rose  before  her  of 
Polly's  faded  frock.  "  I  have  more  to  say  to  you 
farst." 

With  a  mighty  effort  she  threw  her  nervousness 
to  the  winds.  "  Listen,"  she  said,  turning  to  him 
with  a  pretty,  girlish  smile  that  became  her  well. 
"  I  owe  you  so  much,  that  I  have  a  right  to  ask  a 
favour.  Twelve  years  ago,  when  you  were  a  total 
stranger,  I  took  you  into  my  confidence,  as  I  never 
took  man  or  woman  before  or  since.  God  knows  I 
have  had  no  cause  to  regret  it ;  but  I  don't  need  to 
tell  you  that  there  have  been  depressed  and  cynical 
moments  when  I  have  called  myself  a  fool,  and  have 
wished  with  all  my  heart  that  I  had  given  myself 
away  less  completely.  So  you  see  you  have  it  in 
your  power  to  be  very  generous  now.  You  can  take 
away  such  thoughts  for  ever.  Give  me  back  what  I 
gave  you  then!  Tell  me  about  your  life !  It  is  not 
for  nothing  that  your  face  is  so  worn  and  your  hair 
so  white." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  and  then  he 
opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  a  great  sob  broke  from 
him  unawares.  He  made  haste  to  cover  it  with  a 
cough,  but  the  attempt  was  a  failure.  The  sob  re- 
mained a  fact ;  it  seemed  to  go  echoing  on  in  the 
room  long  after  the  actual  sound  must  have  ceased. 

So,  as  soon  as  he  could  regain  control  of  his 
voice,  he  told  her — with  such  reservations  as  a  hus- 


42 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


band  or  wife  must  make — the  story  of  his  life  since 
they  met,  of  his  worries  and  frets  and  disappoint- 
ments and  trials. 

She  listened  with  breathless  interest.  "And  do 
you  mean  to  say,"  she  said  at  last,  "  that  you  want 
money  ? — only  money  !  " 

"  Mainly,"  he  said  grimly.  "  Money  is  a  good 
deal  to  some  of  us." 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  what  a  pity  I  did  not  give  you 
my  name  that  day !  Perhaps  you  would  have  seen 
— that  I  was  getting  on ;  and  it  might  have  occurred 
to  you  that  the  mouse's  turn  had  come!  " 

"  No  doubt  I  should  have  seen  your  name,"  he 
said,  smiling  in  spite  of  himself,  "but  I  am  at  a  loss 
even  now  to  know  what  the  poor  old  beast  did  for 
the  mouse !  I  wonder  what  it  was  I  really  said  ? 
— Some  platitude,  no  doubt,  out  of  which  you  have 
been  weaving  all  sorts  of  pretty  things." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  a  platitude,"  she  said  musing. 
"  Most  things  are  till  the  right  moment  comes,  and 
the  right  lips  speak  them." 

"And  the  right  ears  hear  them." 

"  And  the  right  ears  hear  them !  "  she  admitted. 
"  To  me  what  you  said  was  simply  the  key  of  the 
universe.  It  came  just  at  the  right  moment — at  the 
turning-point  of  my  life,  when  I  was  just  beginning 
to  be  wise  enough  to  take  it  in." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can't  take  credit  to  myself  for 
that." 

She  smiled. 

"  Your  credit  is  your  affair:  my  debt  is  mine.  I 
can    never  repay  it,   you    know.     I    shall   wear  my 


AFTER   MANY   DAYS. 


43 


shackles  proudly  and  thankfully  all  my  life.     And 

yet "     She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  clasped  her 

hands   behind    her,   unconscious   of   the    tears   that 

were  raining  down  her  cheeks.     " do  you  know, 

I  can  scarcely  believe  in  my  own  happiness  ?  I 
didn't  deserve  it  a  bit.  Are  you  sure  it  isn't  a  day- 
dream ? — a  castle  in  the  air  ? " 

She  dropped  her  hands  again,  with  a  long  sigh ; 
and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  soft,  sweet  curves  of 
childhood  had  taken  possession  of  her  face  as  she 
went  on,  "  I  shall  never  even  ask  to  paint  a  good 
picture  again !  I  have  had  my  share  of  happiness 
for  this  life, — '  full  measure,  pressed  down,  shaken 
together,  and  running  over  ' !  " 


THE   EXAMINER'S  CONSCIENCE. 

If  there's  a  hole  in  a'  your  coats, 

I  rede  you  tent  it. — Burns. 

I. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  say  quite  definitely  at  once 
that  the  examiner  had  a  conscience. 

I  wish  to  make  this  clear  at  the  outset,  not  be- 
cause I  have  any  doubt  of  the  reader's  discernment ; 
but  because — titles  are  such  misleading  things  now- 
adays !  and  besides,  even  when  philosophers  have 
had  their  say,  conscience  remains  for  most  of  us  a 
relative  thing,  and  we  are  almost  tempted  to  think 
at  times  that,  in  the  special  walks  of  life,  one  would 
require  a  technical  education  before  pronouncing 
wisely  and  fairly  on  the  morality  of  any  given 
act. 

Of  course  we  all  number  divers  examiners  among 
our  acquaintance,  and  excellent  cronies  they  often 
make,  with  their  booty  of  entertaining  anecdotes 
snatched  from  the  quivering  minds  of  their  tortured 
victims.  Very  frank  and  communicative  they  some- 
times are ;  but  their  world  of  conscience,  their  stand- 
ard of  morality,  remains  for  the  most  part  a  hortus 
inclusus  ;  they  don't  talk  much  about  that. 

44 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE.  45 

And  this  is  why  I  say  at  once  that  the  examiner 
had  a  conscience. 

A  cynic  might  seek  to  explain  the  persistence  of 
this  "appendage"  by  the  fact  that  the  examiner 
had  been  only  recently  appointed, — but  the  cyni- 
cal aspect  of  the  case  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
story. 

The  day  was  grim  and  cloudy  and  bitterly  cold. 
A  frostwork  tracery  of  curling  fronds  and  stately 
firs  and  leafless  branches  obscured  the  windows  of 
the  railway  carriage,  and  the  examiner  was  fain  to 
turn  up  the  collar  of  his  fur  coat  and  to  draw  his  cap 
over  his  eyes  as  he  ensconced  himself  in  a  comfort- 
able corner. 

Truly  it  was  no  joke  travelling  across  country  to 
examine  fellows  in  such  weather  as  this;  and  indeed 
the  January  examination  was  on  the  whole  an  un- 
satisfactory one  in  any  weather.  Capable  men  who 
knew  their  work  went  in  at  the  end  of  term  in  April 
or  July.  January  was  the  innings  of  the  fellows  who 
had  failed  or  "funked." 

The  examiner  was  young  and  enthusiastic,  and  he 
knew  his  work,  so  he  was  not  nervous  about  his  own 
share  of  the  programme ;  moreover  he  possessed  the 
gift — so  useful  to  examiners — of  keeping  a  firm  hand 
on  the  helm  of  a  Vivd  voce  examination,  instead  of 
weakly  delivering  it  over  to  the  wily  candidate;  and 
yet,  when  the  occasion  tempted  him  to  experiment, 
he  could  cede  it  gracefully  enough  (is  it  not  here 
indeed  that  the  very  essence  of  the  humour  of  an 
examination  comes  in — from  the  examiner's  point  of 
view  ?),  and  watch  with  amusement  or  admiration,  as 


46  FELLOW    TRAVELLERS. 

the  case  might  be,  the  use  the  poor  devil  would  make 
of  it. 

Thus  it  is  evident  that,  in  addition  to  a  con- 
science, the  examiner  was  possessed  of  real  ability, 
and  that,  if  he  sinned,  it  cannot  be  said  of  him — 
what  unsuccessful  candidates  are  so  generously 
ready  to  say  of  their  examiners — that  he  sinned  in 
ignorance. 

The  train  drew  up  at  a  provincial  station,  and  a 
blast  of  biting  wind  came  in  at  the  opening  door. 

The  examiner  shivered  and  scowled,  but  withdrew 
his  tacit  remonstrance  as  his  eye  fell  on  a  peach- 
blossom  face  framed  in  soft  brown  hair  and  cheap 
but  becoming  fur. 

"Jump  in,  Dick  !  "  said  a  girl's  pleasant  voice. 

Dick  had  a  peach-blossom  complexion  too,  but  it 
failed  to  convey  any  impression  of  beauty.  Indeed 
his  whole  appearance  was  commonplace  and  under- 
bred. Obviously  Nature  had  tried  her  'prentice  hand 
on  him  before  she  made  his  sister. 

"Jump  in!"  he  repeated  derisively,  showing  a 
row  of  faulty  teeth  as  he  spoke.     "  First-class  !  " 

"  Yes,  certainly  First-class,"  she  urged  with  pretty 
motherly  solicitude.  "  I've  taken  your  ticket  now, 
so  you  must.  It  is  bad  enough  to  have  to  travel  at 
all  in  this  weather  with  your  cough,  you  poor  boy  !  " 

She  coughed  herself  as  she  spoke,  and  drew  him 
gently  towards  the  carriage.  Neither  of  them  took 
any  notice  of  the  passenger  in  the  corner,  and  indeed 
he  was  so  wrapped  up  in  furs  that  he  looked  more 
like  a  mighty  chrysalis  than  a  human  being. 

"  You  know,"  the  girl  continued  softly,  "  we  shall 


THE  EXAMINER'S  CONSCIENCE. 


47 


be  all  right  once  you  get  on  the  register;  and  I  am 
quite  quite  sure  you  are  going  to  pass  this  time — you 
have  worked  so  splendidly  !  " 

"Yes,"  he  said,  with' a  feeble,  flattered,  anxious 
smile;  "I  don't  see  how  I  can  miss  it, — if  I  get  an 
examiner  who  knows  his  work." 

"  Oh,  but  I  am  sure  you  will — this  time !  Only 
don't  mix  up  aconite  and  atropine,  as  you  did  last 
night.  Do  you  know  what  I  found,  Dick, — just  out- 
side the  booking-ofifice  ?  Look  !  "  She  held  up  a 
battered  threepenny-bit  with  a  hole  in  it.  "  Isn't 
that  lucky  ?  Do  you  think  it  would  be  better  for  me 
to  wear  it  round  my  neck  or  for  you  ? " 

"I  think  you  had  better." 

"  Very  well,  I  will ;  and  I'll  think  of  you  every 
single  minute  till  you  come  back.  I  know  you'll 
pass,  but — "  she  hesitated,  " — you  won't  fret,  dear, 
will  you — whatever  happens  ?  You  are  off  now. 
Take  my  shawl  to  put  over  your  knees." 

"A  woman's  shawl !"  he  said,  with  a  somewhat 
fatuous  laugh. 

She  lowered  her  voice.  "  It  is  very  warm,"  she 
said  coaxingly,  "  and  no  one  will  notice  that  it 
isn't  a  plaid.  Take  it  quick.  Good-bye!  God  bless 
you  !  " 

The  train  moved  off,  but  only  to  stop  a  moment 
later,  and  then  the  bright  face  appeared  at  the  win- 
dow again. 

"What  do  you  think  has  come  by  the  train  ?  A 
turkey  from  Uncle  Jack !  So  the  fatted  calf  is  all 
ready  for  you.  Isn't  that  a  good  omen  ?  Uncle 
Jack  is  beginning  to  see  that  you  are  a  person  of 


48 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


some  importance  after  all.  Won't  we  make  a  night 
of  it  when  you  come  back  ? " 

The  train  was  really  off  now,  and  the  examiner 
looked  out  from  the  small  space  between  his  cap  and 
his  collar  at  the  other  occupant  of  the  carriage. 

So  this  was  one  of  the  candidates,  was  it  ? — this 
poor  little  chap  who  "  mixed  up  aconite  and  atro- 
pine " !  and,  even  if  he  got  his  diploma,  what  use  did 
he  suppose  it  was  going  to  be  to  him  in  the  teeth  of 
such  obvious  physical  disqualifications  ?  Why,  his 
course  of  study  had  almost  finished  him.  There  was 
no  stamina  left  to  begin  practice  with.  Experience 
proved  that  a  doctor  could  get  along  without  super- 
fluous strength — or  breeding — or  abiUty — or  learn- 
ing; but  even  the  great  gullible  public  scarcely 
liked  to  dispense  with  all  four  ! 

The  examiner  sighed.  He  was  used  to  candidates 
who  ought  to  be  at  the  plough  ;  but  it  was  ridiculous 
to  think  of  the  plough  in  connection  with  this  poor 
lad.  It  was  a  little  difficult  to  say  where  his  niche 
was  to  be  found  in  the  economy  of  Nature. 

The  young  man  had  taken  a  well-worn  book 
from  his  pocket,  ^nd  was  poring  over  the  contents, 
muttering  to  himself  the  while,  and  turning  over 
the  leaves  with  moistened  thumb.  The  examiner 
recognized  the  volume  in  question.  It  was  a  cram 
book  to  which  he  had  a  particular  dislike.  From 
time  to  time  the  reader  stopped  and  hastily  turned 
back  a  few  pages,  with  an  expression  of  intense  anx- 
iety, having  evidently  forgotten  some  fact  he  had 
just  read. 

It  was  all  the  examiner  could  do  to  help  hold  his 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE. 


49 


peace.  "  Put  that  away,  you  fool !  "  he  longed  to 
say.  "  Isn't  that  poor  weak  brain  of  yours  quite 
muddled  enough  already  ?  " 

At  the  next  stoppage  an  elderly  lady  entered  the 
carriage.  She  looked  at  the  student  with  pitying 
motherly  interest,  and  took  an  early  opportunity  of 
offering  him  a  cough-lozenge. 

He  seemed  grateful  for  a  little  human  sympathy. 

"  Beastly  nuisance  going  up  for  an  exam. !  "  he 
said, 

"  Is  that  what  you  are  doing  ?  Poor  thing !  But 
it  will  be  a  comfort  to  get  it  over,  won't  it  ? " 

He  nodded  doubtfully.  "If  I  do  get  it  over!" 
Then  the  kindness  of  her  face  moved  his  facile  na- 
ture to  unnecessary  confession.  "  I  have  been 
ploughed  four  times,"  he  said. 

"  Poor  boy  !  How  dreadful !  But  I  am  sure  you 
know  your  work  this  time.  You  look  as  if  you  had 
been  reading  very  hard." 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  know  it  any  better 
than  I  did  last  time,"  he  said  doggedly.  "  I  can't 
think  how  I  failed.  It's  all  luck.  You  see  some 
of  the  examiners  have  written  books,  and  they  all 
have  theories  of  their  own  ;  and,  if  you  don't  happen 
to  have  read  the  book,  or  heard  the  theory,  it's  all 
up  with  you !  There  are  such  a  lot  of  them,  too — 
examiners,  I  mean — and  you  never  know  beforehand 
who  you  are  going  to  get.  And,  with  the  best  will 
in  the  world,  one  can't  read  everything!  " 

The  lady  looked  horrified,  as  well  she  might. 
"  How  very  unfair,"  she  said.  "  How — how  small- 
minded !  " 


50  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

The  examiner  glowed  inwardly  with  a  sense  of 
injustice,  but  he  did  not  fight  with  foemen  unwor- 
thy of  his  steel,  and — the  situation  had  a  humour 
of  its  own.  Besides,  if  he  revealed  himself  now,  he 
would  only  shake  the  little  chap's  nerve  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  and  give  his  poor  petty  mind  reason 
to  believe  for  evermore  that  these  indiscreet  dis- 
closures was  the  cause  of  a  failure  which  seemed  to 
the  examiner  almost  a  foregone  conclusion. 

"Well,  when  you  do  pass,"  continued  the  friendly 
lady,  "  I  hope  you  will  get  rid  of  that  troublesome 
cough.  Can't  you  get  away  to  the  south  for  a 
bit?" 

"  Oh,  bless  me,  no  !  I'm  as  fit  as  a  fiddle.  We've 
been  a  bit  hard  up  the  last  few  months," — he  glanced 
at  the  shabby  wisp  of  crape  on  his  sleeve — "  but  we'll 
be  all  right  when  the  fees  begin  to  come  in." 

Her  kind  eyes  yearned  over  him. 

"But  I  am  told  they  don't  always  begin  to  come 
in  very  fast — just  at  once,  you  know." 

He  laughed  and  rubbed  his  hands.  "  Oh,  I'm  not 
afraid.  Quite  a  lot  of  people  have  consulted  me 
about  odds  and  ends  lately, — of  course  they  couldn't 
offer  me  fees  before  I  was  qualified.  The  fact  is,  I 
have  a  sort  of  knack  of  getting  on  with  people. 
There  is  a  great  deal  in  manner  !  " 

Her  face  fell.  Poor  boy!  So  there  was — a  great 
deal  in  manner ! 

"I  wish  you  would  give  me  your  name  and  ad- 
dress," she  said  at  last,  rather  doubtfully.  "  I  might 
be  able  to  be  of  use  to  you  sometime." 

"Flattered,  I'm  sure."     He  tore  a  leaf  out  of  his 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE. 


51 


notebook,  and  handed  it  to  her  with  a  bow  that  was 
meant  to  be  gallant. 

Just  then  the  train  drew  up  at  the  terminus,  and 
the  young  fellow  jumped  out  to  join  some  compan- 
ions on  the  platform.  The  examiner  saw  him  make 
a  motion  with  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  moth- 
erly lady. 

"Odious  little  brute  !"  he  ejaculated^  as  he  ex- 
changed his  fur  cap  for  a  professional-looking  hat. 
"I  suppose  you  are  telling  them  that  'the  old  girl 
was  awfully  smitten  with  you.'  I  should  like  to 
knock  you  down — if  Nature  had  not  done  that  al- 
ready !  " 


II. 

It  was  growing  late,  and  the  examiners  were  very 
tired.  What  they  really  wanted  was  a  brilliant  can- 
didate to  wake  them  up,  but  the  brilliant  candidate 
was  not  forthcoming. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  said  an  elderly  man,  stretching 
himself  with  a  yawn.  "They  are  always  talking  of 
the  extent  to  which  we  have  raised  the  standard 
of  the  examinations.  I  wish  they  would  raise  the 
standard  of  the  men  a  bit.  We  ask  stiffer  ques- 
tions than  our  fathers  did,  but  we  don't  get  half 
such  good  answers.  The  thing's  as  broad  as  it's 
long — or  broader." 

The  speaker  was  a  specialist,  and  much  dreaded 
by  the  students  as  a  merciless  examiner. 

"Well,"  he  continued  in  a  tone  of  resignation, 
"  let  us  have  the  next  man  in  !     Have  you  got  his 


52 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


paper  ?  Richard  Allison  ?  How  does  he  stand  so 
far?" 

Our  friend  glanced  at  the  paper  with  furrowed 
brows. 

**  Written — rather  feeble,"  he  said.  He  men- 
tioned the  figures,  of  course;  but  the  reader  need 
not  be  troubled  with  mmutice.  "  Clinical — somewhat 
better.  He  will  have  to  do  a  pretty  fair  Vivd,  if  he 
means  to  get  through." 

"  That  is  precisely  the  position  most  of  them  are 
in,"  said  the  elder  man  with  a  grunt.  "  Lucky  for 
him  that  your  marking  leans  to  mercy's  side  !  " 

"  I  am  afraid  that  benefit  is  somewhat  neutralized 
by  your  questions,"  retorted  the  other,  smiling. 

The  door  opened  and  the  candidate  was  ushered 
in.  Poor  Dick  !  It  was  well  for  his  quivering  nerves 
that  he  failed  to  recognise  in  the  tall  well-groomed 
examiner  the  amorphous  chrysalis  of  the  railway- 
carriage. 

I  know  of  few  things  more  remarkable  than  the 
variety  of  views  which  obtain  among  candidates  as 
to  the  bearing,  conduct,  and  mode  of  speech  which 
are  most  likely  to  propitiate  the  bloodthirsty  exam- 
iner. A  whole  volume  of  folklore  might  be  written 
on  the  subject  by  anyone  who  took  the  trouble  to 
investigate  it;  but  for  the  present  it  is  sufficient  to 
say  that  Dick's  idea  of  ingratiation  was  to  walk  in 
with  a  jaunty  air  of  confidence  and  self-satisfaction. 

Three  well-planted  questions  from  the  elder 
man,  uttered  very  slowly,  and  with  a  manner  abso- 
lutely unsympathetic  and  non-committal,  were  suffi- 
cient to  destroy  these  flimsy  outworks;  and,  at  the 


THE   EXAMINER'S  CONSCIENCE. 


53 


end  of  five  minutes,  poor  Dick  had  forgotten  that 
he  had  a  manner.  Pie  sat  there  with  crimson  cheelcs, 
with  parched  mouth,  with  beads  of  perspiration  on 
his  brow, — his  whole  physique  the  exponent  of  simple 
mental  anguish. 

Not  that  he  was  altogether  a  fraud  by  any  means. 
It  was  easy  to  see  that  he  had  read  much,  and,  in  a 
sense,  carefully.  But  he  possessed  the  cast  of  mind, 
so  irritating  to  some  examiners,  and  so  difficult  at 
all  times  to  appraise  fairly,  which  seems  to  nibble 
indefinitely  round  a  subject,  without  ever  being  able 
to  take  a  good  bite.  It  may  be  that  he  was  in  no 
way  responsible  for  this, — that  he  simply  belonged  by 
nature  to  the  great  psychological  class  of  Rodentia. 

The  younger  examiner  raised  his  eyebrows  as  he 
bent  over  the  paper  before  him,  and  reflected — not 
for  the  first  time  that  day — that  his  confrtre  was  a 
trifle  severe. 

At  this  moment  a  tall  urbane-looking  individual 
in  broadcloth  entered  the  room  and  bent  over  the 
elder  man.  "  One  word,  doctor,"  he  said,  and  whis- 
pered in  his  ear. 

The  communication  seemed  to  be  of  some  im- 
portance, for  the  examiner  laid  down  the  "  speci- 
men "  he  was  holding,  and  rose  from  his  chair  with 
a  frown.  Then,  as  an  afterthought,  he  turned  to  his 
colleague. 

"  Just  get  on — get  done,"  he  said  in  an  under- 
tone. "  This  is  the  last  candidate,  I  believe  ;  "  and 
he  drew  his  friend  over  to  the  fire. 

The  younger  examiner  raised  his  eyes  to  the  tor- 
tured face  beside  him. 


54 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


•'  Keep  cool,"  he  said  roughly  but  kindly,  "  Don't 
lose  your  head.  I've  no  doubt  you  can  answer  the 
questions  I  am  going  to  ask." 

But  the  friendly  words  seemed  to  come  too  late. 
Dick  felt  himself  sinking  into  a  bottomless  abyss. 
He  lost  all  sense  of  time  and  place,  and  there  was 
a  great  surging  in  his  ears.  The  questions  still 
seemed  to  reach  him,  however,  from  somewhere,  in 
a  queer  far-away  voice ;  and,  with  a  last  instinct 
of  self-preservation,  he  tried  to  shout  back  the 
reply. 

"  That  will  do,"  said  the  examiner  at  last. 

The  words  seemed  to  break  a  spell,  but  still  Dick 
sat  in  his  chair  without  moving. 

"That  will  do,"  repeated  the  examiner.  "You 
may  go." 

Could  it  really  be  over  ?  It  seemed  to  have  lasted 
an  eternity,  and  yet  he  could  not  believe  that  it  had 
come  to  an  end.  He  had  ceased  somehow  to  believe 
that  it  ever  would  come  to  an  end ;  and  now,  follow- 
ing quick  on  the  heels  of  his  relief,  came  an  awful 
sense  of  despair. 

He  had  failed  again,  of  course ;  he  never,  never 
would  pass  now ;  and  Kate  had  worn  her  poor  little 
threepenny-bit  in  vain  ! 

The  tears  rushed  into  his  eyes,  and  he  turned  to 
the  examiner  a  face  from  which  all  the  vulgarity 
seemed  to  have  melted  away.  It  might  almost  have 
been  his  sister's  face,  and  there  flashed  across  the 
examiner's  mind  the  thought  of  the  "  fatted  calf"! 

The  candidate  had  left  the  room,  and  the  senior 
examiner   still   stood   by  the   fire   with    his   friend. 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE. 


55 


Slowly  the  younger  man  added  up  the  figures. 
They  fell  short  without  doubt,  though  not  so  very 
far  short,  and  indeed  he  knew  quite  well  that  the 
man  was  7iot  up  to  the  mark.  And  yet — the  poor 
fellow  had    done    his    best ;  it  was    morally  certain 

that  he  never  would  do  better,  if  indeed 

The  examiner  thought  of  the  lad's  cough,  and 
again  he  saw  the  sweet,  flower-like  face  at  the  win- 
dow. "  No  one  will  notice  that  it  isn't  a  plaid,"  he 
heard  the  girl  say,  with  a  queer  little  throb  in 
her  anxious,  motherly  voice  ;  and  then — he  took  up 
his  pen. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  the  elder  man  a  minute  later. 
"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  fellow  has  passed  ?  I 
am  afraid,  sir,  you  haven't  sufficient  regard  for 
the  standard  of  a  noble  profession  !  " 

"  He  picked  up  a  bit  after  you  were  gone,"  said 
the  other  indifferently — and  with  doubtful  veracity. 
"  He  obviously  isn't  in  a  state  of  health  to  do  him- 
self justice." 

Some  half-dozen  men  were  assembled  in  the 
waiting-room  when  Dick  came  out. 

"  Hallo  !  "  they  said,  when  they  read  the  report 
in  his  altered  face. 

**  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  you  fellows,"  he  said, 
sitting  down,  "I'll  just  go  and  cut  my  throat.  I 
can't  face  it.  It's  the  fifth  time,  and  I  really  did 
know  my  work.  Upon  my  soul  and  conscience,  I 
did.     I  daren't  go  home.     I "     He  stopped. 

"  My  governor  will  be  awfully  down  on  me  too," 
said  another  man  grimly. 


56  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

'^Governor!"  repeated  Dick.  "If  it  were  my 
governor!"  But  again  he  pulled  up  short.  Even 
he  could  not  talk  of  his  sister  here. 

"  We  all  seem  to  be  in  the  same  boat  this 
time,"  remarked  a  man  with  a  turn  for  philosophy. 
"  My  opinion  is  they  are  asking  deuced  unfair 
questions.  What  do  you  think  the  fellow  said  to 
me  ?  *  How  does  the  psoas  get  out  of  the  pelvis  ? ' 
As  if  anybody  ever  thought  of  that !  I've  never 
seen  it  in  any  of  the  books.  Well,  what's  the 
odds  ?  It's  all  in  the  day's  work.  They  give  back 
part  of  the  fees,  don't  they  ?  Let's  go  and  have  a 
jolly  good  spree  !  " 

"  Galbraith  !  "  said  the  porter 

**  Oh,  Lor' !  "  exclaimed  the  men,  for  the  moment 
had  come  now  when  they  must  go  in  one  by  one 
to  learn  their  fate. 

The  extra  assessors  had  arrived,  and  a  formi- 
dable circle  was  assembled  in  the  council-room. 
Dick  never  knew  how  he  commanded  himself  suffi- 
ciently to  walk  in  when  his  turn  came. 

"  I  have  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Allison,"  said  the  chair- 
man without  effusion,  "  that  you  have  satisfied  the 
examiners." 

Dick  staggered,  and  caught  hold  of  the  back  of 
a  chair.  "  Beg  pardon,"  he  gasped  with  quivering 
face,  "  did  you  say — Yd  passed?  " 

The  chairman  nodded,  and  pointed  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  roll-books.  "  Sign  your  name,"  he  said 
shortly. 

"And  now  that  you  are  likely  to  have  a  little 
spare  time,  you  might  take  a  few  lessons  in  hand- 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE. 


57 


writing,"  said  the  custodian  of  the  first  book  se- 
verely, as  he  surveyed  the  shaky  sprawling  sig- 
nature. 

"  You  seemed  surprised  at  the  result,"  murmured 
another  member  of  the  Vehmgericht. 

But  Dick's  jaunty  manner  had  returned  in  full 
force. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  said,  "  I  wasn't  really  afraid,  but  it's 
always  a  relief." 

"■  Humph !  Very  great  relief,  I  should  think. 
I  should  advise  you  to  call  for  your  marks  to- 
morrow." 

Dick  entered  the  waiting-room  with  a  bound. 
"  Passed !  "  he  cried,  with  his  arms  in  the  air. 
"  Passed !  passed !  "  and  seizing  his  cap,  he  rushed 
out  into  the  street. 

There  he  stopped  and  looked  at  his  watch.  In 
another  moment  he  was  tearing  along  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  railway  station  as  fast  as  his  exhausted 
limbs  could  carry  him. 


III. 

I  HAVE  said  quite  truly  that  the  cynical  aspect 
of  the  case  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story;  and 
yet  it  seems  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  at  this 
point  that  the  examiner  had  been  only  recently  ap- 
pointed. In  this  connection  it  may  be  well  to  add 
that — although  he  did  not  yet  see  his  way  to  pay  the 
rent  of  the  house  he  had  taken — he  was  rapidly  get- 
ting into  busy  practice,  and  that  he  was  still  young 


58 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


enough  to  be  deeply  interested  in  the  behaviour  of 
his  favourite  microbe. 

So  what  with  one  thing  and  another,  I  suppose 
he  began  to  get  overworked;  and  although  to  all 
appearance  as  robust  as  ever,  gradually  fell  into  the 
state  of  health  in  which  a  man  is  no  fair  match  for 
his  conscience. 

"  Examinations  are  not  a  true  test !  "  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  lay  with  sleepless  eyes  in  the  small  hours  of  the 
morning. 

"  Then  why  be  an  examiner  ? "  said  Conscience 
placidly. 

"And,  indeed,  what  does  school  and  hospital 
work  amount  to  at  the  best  ? "  he  continued,  striv- 
ing to  shut  her  words  out  of  his  consciousness. 
"  Good  doctors  get  their  education  from  their  first 
year's  patients;  bad  doctors  never  get  it  at  all." 

"  Hitherto,"  said  Conscience,  "  you  have  invari- 
ably argued  on  the  other  side  of  the  question. 
If  you  have  changed  your  views,  why  be  an 
examiner  ? " 

"  Why  not  I  as  well  as  another  ?  Public  opinion 
demands  that  someone  shall  do  the  work." 

"And  does  public  opinion  demand  that  someone 
shall  turn  it  into  a  farce?" 

"  I  didn't  turn  it  into  a  farce,"  retorted  the  ex- 
aminer hotly.     "  The  fellow  had  worked  well." 

"  Perhaps  public  opinion  would  have  preferred 
that  he  had  worked  wisely.  In  any  case  the  fact 
remains  that  better  men  were  ploughed." 

"  The  poor  chap  was  run  down  and  out  of 
health." 


THE   EXAMINER'S  CONSCIENCE. 


59 


"  No  doubt  in  after  years  it  would  be  a  consola- 
tion to  his  patients  to  know  that  he  was  allowed 
to  pass,  because  the  Board  of  Examiners  considered 
him  physically  as  well  as  intellectually  incompe- 
tent." 

"  Bless  my  soul ! "  cried  the  examiner,  uncon- 
sciously falling  back  into  the  words  of  Mephistoph- 
eles.     "  He  is  not  the  first !  " 

"  True,"  said  Conscience,  "  but  he  is  the  first  for 
whom^^«  are  responsible." 

Conscience  knew  her  man, — as  she  usually  does. 
The  shaft  struck  home. 

The  examiner  became  more  indignant. 

"  I  am  not  paid,"  he  said,  "  to  be  a  mere  reckon- 
ing-machine. You  can't  express  everything  in  fig- 
ures. Even  in  an  examination  the  vital  spark  must 
come  in  somewhere." 

"  No  doubt.  But  there  wasn't  much  vital  spark 
about  this  man,  was  there  ?  From  the  point  of  view 
of  the  public,  he  could  have  been  very  well  ex- 
pressed in  figures — with  a  minus  sign  before  them 
perhaps  ?  " 

"  Unfortunately  we  can't  provide  all  humanity 
with  perfect  doctors." 

"True,"  said  Conscience.  "Is  that  any  rea- 
son for  not  providing  them  with  the  best  we 
can  ? " 

"  And  if  I  had  ploughed  the  fellow  and  sent  him 
off  in  despair,  you  would  have  worried  me  about 
that." 

"  I  might  have  worried  the  man"  said  Conscience 
candidly  ;  "  certainly  not  the  examiner." 
5 


6o  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

There  was  no  reply,  but  Conscience  is  never 
content  with  the  mere  triumph  of  getting  the  last 
word. 

"  Most  of  this  argument  is  quite  beside  the  point," 
she  pursued  remorselessly.  "  The  case  lies  in  a  nut- 
shell. You  were  appointed  to  a  position  of  public 
trust,  and  you  have  failed  in  carrying  it  out — not 
some  wild  high-flown  ideal  of  your  own — but  the  or- 
dinary, decent,  commonplace  expectations  of  your 
fellow-men." 

And  so  on  da  capo.  It  is  extraordinary  of  how 
much  reiteration  the  human  mind  is  capable,  in  the 
small  hours  of  the  morning. 

"  I  wish  to  goodfiess  I  had  waylaid  the  fellow  on 
his  way  out  of  the  council-room,"  he  said  wearily, 
"and  advised  him  to  take  some  post-graduate 
classes." 

But  even  as  he  spoke,  he  knew  that  the  wish 
was  perfectly  futile.  In  the  face  of  such  obvious 
poverty,  what  hope  was  there  of  post-graduate 
classes  ? 

The  examiner  sat  for  a  long  time  before 
the  dressing-table  with  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands. 

"  It  would  be  ridiculous  to  go  and  look  the  fellow 
up,  and  see  what  he  is  doing,"  he  said  at  last;  "and 
besides  it  would  imply  that  I  wasn't  easy  in  my 
mind  at  having  passed  him." 

This,  of  course,  was  obviously  ridiculous. 

The  weeks  went  on.  With  the  yielding  of  the 
frost,  there  came  a  violent  outbreak  of  influenza, 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE.  6l 

and,  as  doctor  after  doctor  succumbed  to  the  prevail- 
ing malady,  the  popular  practitioners  among  the 
residue  were  hard  pressed  to  fit  in  their  daily  quota 
of  visits. 

For  some  time  the  weather  was  mild,  damp, 
relaxing,  and  in  every  way  favourable  to  the  per- 
secutions of  conscience ;  but,  suddenly  in  the  mid- 
dle of  March,  a  sharp  frost  set  in,  working  havoc 
among  all  the  young  green  things,  which  had  been 
tempted  into  a  deceitful  world  under  false  pre- 
tences. 

"  Thank  heaven  !  "  ejaculated  the  examiner,  as 
he  awoke  from  a  good  night's  sleep  to  feel  a  sharp, 
stimulating  bite  in  the  morning  air. 

Among  his  letters  that  morning  was  one  from  an 
old  college  chum. 

" — I  wish  you  could  spare  time  to  run  down  and 
see  a  case  with  me.  You  might  be  able  to  suggest 
something  I  haven't  thought  of.  It  is  just  the  sort 
of  thing  you  used  to  be  strong  on.  ...  I  don't 
think  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  but  it  hangs 
fire  in  a  way  I  don't  like;  and  I've  had  a  run  of 
ill-luck  lately.  What  a  hydra-headed  brute  this  in- 
fluenza is! " 

The  examiner  took  out  his  pocket  time-table,  and 
glanced  again  at  the  address, on  the  paper.  Surely 
he  had  some  special  association  with  that  place  ? 
Ah,  yes,  to  be  sure !  It  was  there  that  fellow  had 
got  into  the  train, — "  Dick  " — Dick — what  was  his 
name  ?  Richard  Allison.  It  would  be  interesting 
to  hear  what  he  was  doing,  poor  chap — he,  and  that 
"airy  fairy"  sister  of  his.    Assuredly  it  would  be 


62  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

worth  while  to  go  and  see  the  case.     It  would  be 
killing  two  birds  with  one  stone. 

A  few  hours  later  the  consultation  was  satisfac- 
torily over  and  the  two  medical  men  stood  together 
on  the  doorstep. 

"I  think  I'll  walk  to  the  station  if  you 
don't  mind,"  said  the  examiner,  buttoning  his 
overcoat  across  his  broad  chest.  "  I  see  I  have 
time." 

"Ah,  you  miss  your  comfortable  brougham.  All 
right.  I'll  send  the  trap  home,  and  walk  with  you. 
It  will  suit  me  just  as  well.  You  have  taken  a  load 
off  my  mind.  I  never  believed  in  luck  till  a  few 
weeks  ago." 

*'  And  you  are  not  going  to  believe  in  it  now," 
said  his  companion,  reassuringly.  "  By  the  way,  do 
you  happen  to  know  a  young  fellow — a  doctor, 
Richard  Allison  ?" 

The  other  started.     "  Did  you  know  him  ? " 

"Slightly."  The  examiner  refused  to  notice  the 
past  tense.  "  He  wasn't  very  fit,  poor  chap.  Is  his 
home  hereabout  ?  " 

"  Under  the  mools,"  said  the  other  with  dismal 
stoicism.  "  He  died  last  week.  It  was  awfully  hard 
on  me  ;  I  lost  two  cases  in  one  house  ;  but  the  truth 
was  they  gave  neither  themselves  nor,  me  a  chance. 
I  believe  they  were  half-starved." 

"  Good  Lord !     Is  the  sister  dead  too  ? " 

The  other  nodded. 

"This  way,"  he  said.  "There's  a  short  cut 
through  the  churchyard.     It's  an   awfully  pathetic 


THE   EXAMINER'S   CONSCIENCE. 


63 


Story  all  round.  You  know  Allison  had  failed  over 
and  over  again  in  his  Final." 

"Yes?" 

"  He  ought  to  have  given  up  long  ago,  but  the 
family  were  all  sanguine — and  phthisical.  Dick's 
passing  always  represented  the  coming  in  of  their 
ship.  Everything  was  to  be  couleur  de  rose  when 
that  consummation  was  achieved.  It  was  perfectly 
amazing  how  they  never  seemed  to  doubt  that  the 
guineas  would  begin  to  roll  in  as  soon  as  his  plate 
was  on  the  door.  He  lost  two  sisters  during  his 
course  of  study,  and  last  autumn  the  father  died, 
leaving  him  and  one  sister  alone.  The  father  never 
appeared  to  do  much,  but  his  death  seems  to  have 
made  a  difference  to  them,  poor  things  ! 

"Well,  I  can't  think  how  it  was  managed,  but  in 
January  Dick  did  contrive  to  squeeze  through  ;  and 
if  he  had  been  senior  wrangler  or — or  prime  minister, 
his  sister  could  not  have  made  more  fuss  about  it. 

She "     The   speaker  paused  and  broke  a  twig 

from  a  frost-bound  willow-tree.     "  She  was  an 

awfully  lovable  girl !  I  never  could  make  out  what 
she  saw  in  the  little  chap,  till— till  the  end  came. 

"  I  believe  they  had  a  royal  feast  the  night  he 
came  home.  A  turkey  had  been  sent  them  from 
somewhere,  and — the  poor  girl  went  to  the  inn  for 
half  a  bottle  of  champagne.  Awful  trash  it  must 
have  been  ;  but  neither  of  them  would  know  that. 
The  next  day  a  plate  appeared  miraculously  on  the 
gate, — 'Dr.  Richard  Allison.'  I  confess  I  was  an- 
noyed, for  of  course  he  had  no  right  to  the  title.  I 
wish  to  heaven  I  had  let  it  alone,  but  I  spoke  to  him 


64 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


about  it,  and  he — well,  he  wasn't  very  civil.  That 
afternoon  the  sister  called  and  told  me  they  had  or- 
dered the  plate  years  and  years  ago,  when  he  went 
up  for  his  University  Final.  They  were  all  so  sure 
he  would  pass  !  *  But  he  is  a  doctor,  isn't  he  ? '  she 
asked  naively. 

"Certainly,"  I  replied;  'legally  he  is  as  much  a 
doctor  as  I  am.' 

"  Poor  thing,  she  was  looking  so  bonny  that  day, 
but  the  excitement  and  strain  and  privation  had 
been  too  much  for  her.  The  family  malady  came 
down  like  a  wolf  on  the  fold, — you  know  how  it  can 
come ! — and  then  I  found  out  what  she  saw  in  her 
brother." 

"  But  had  they  no  friends  to  help  them  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  they  were  proud,  and  the  poor 
fellow  hadn't  the  knack  of  making  himself  very 
popular.  He  had  a  great  notion  that  professional 
men  should  take  their  position  in  society  (God  help 
us !),  Jlnd  society  didn't  see  it.  Anybody  might  have 
taken  up  his  sister,  but  he  was  one  of  the  people  who 
always  seem  to  take  liberties  when  one  shows  them 
a  little  attention.  Of  course  everything  was  changed 
as  soon  as  folks  realized  how  ill  his  sister  was.  One 
lady  alone,  whom  he  had  only  met  incidentally  in 
the  train,  sent  enough  soup  and  jelly  and  fruit  to 
stock  a  small  hospital,  but  it  was  all  too  late." 

"And  the  lad?" 

"  I  gave  him  some  work  to  do  for  me,  partly  to 
help  the  exchequer,  and  partly  to  give  her  the  im- 
pression that  Dick  was  making  a  practice.  There 
was  a  lot  of  influenza  about,  and  he  took  it.     I  sent 


THE   EXAMINER'S  CONSCIENCE.  65 

him  to  bed ;  but  it  was  no  use;  he  was  in  his  sister's 
room  the  moment  my  back  was  turned.  There  was 
no  deliberate  self-sacrifice  about  it.  He  had  just 
picked  up  that  she  was  really  going  to  die,  and  from 
that  moment  he  simply  did  not  know  that  he  had  a 
life  of  his  own.  He  stayed  with  her  night  and  day 
till  the  end,  and  then — he  went  down  like  a  stone.  I 
don't  wonder, — she  was  an  awfully  lovable  girl !  " 

The  speaker  cleared  his  throat  noisily,  and  there 
was  a  pause  before  he  proceeded  with  studied  in- 
difference,— 

"  So  then  of  course  folks  discovered  that  he  was 
a  hero — look  !  " 

The  sun  had  shone  forth  brightly  about  noon, 
melting  the  snow  that  had  fallen  in  the  night,  and 
kindling  into  something  of  a  glow  the  marble  white- 
ness of  that  great  bank  of  flowers. 

"  How  pleased  he  would  be,  poor  chap  !  I  hope 
he  sees  it.     It  can't  do  anyone  else  any  good." 

"  It  does  me  a  little,  I  confess,"  said  the  exam- 
iner quietly.  "  When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  what 
more  can  the  best  of  us  do  than  go  to  our  death  in 
absolute  self-forgetfulness  ?    I  am  glad  folks  saw  it." 

The  other  did  not  answer  immediately.  "  Oh, 
there  is  nothing  to  regret,"  he  said  coldly.  "When 
a  family  gets  into  that  state  there  is  nothing  for  it 
but " 

"  The  short  cut  through  the  churchyard  ?  " 

"  Ay.     Shall  we  go  ?  " 

The  examiner  nodded  ;  but  he  did  not  follow  his 
friend  at  once.  A  whole  flood  of  thought  was  surg- 
ing through   his   mind.     He   noticed  absently  now 


66  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

that  the  flowers  were  too  transparent,  and  that  a 
faint  breath  of  decay  was  mingled  with  their  fra- 
grance. 

Poor  boy,  poor  little  girl!  Youth  ought  to  be  so 
full  of  roses  and  sunshine  and  vitality  ;  and  their 
share  of  the  beauty  of  life  had  surely  been  but  melt- 
ing snow  and  tainted  lilies.  Poor  boy !  Poor  little 
girl! 

It  was  very  irrational,  of  course.  The  examiner 
knew  as  well  as  you  or  I  could  tell  him  that  the 
morality  of  his  action  was  in  no  way  affected  by  the 
mound  of  fading  blossoms  at  his  feet ;  and  yet,  as  he 
turned  away,  in  the  teeth  of  a  cutting  wind,  the  re- 
membrance of  that  one  fatted  calf  rushed  across  his 
mind  again  with  a  glow  of  real  thanksgiving,  and,  in 
some  odd  illogical  way,  his  conscience  was  appeased. 


A  GREAT  GULF. 

Oh  Galuppi,  Baldasarro,  this  is  very  sad  to  find  ! 

I  can  hardly  misconceive  you  ;  it  would  prove  me  deaf  and  blind ; 

But  although  I  take  your  meaning,  'tis  with  such  a  heavy  mind. 

Robert  Browning. 

I. 

It  was  Thursday  afternoon,  and  they  were  stand- 
ing on  the  platform  at  Victoria,  awaiting  the  depart- 
ure of  the  Club  train.  The  beautiful  girl  was  ac- 
companied by  her  maid,  and  the  plain  young  woman 
by  a  friend. 

**  Fine  eyes,"  observed  the  plain  young  woman 
quietly. 

Her  companion  nodded,  "  Pretty  gown,"  she 
added  indifferently. 

"  Actress  ? " 

"  American,  I  should  think." 

Their  friendly  interest  was  not  reciprocated. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances  plain  young  women 
had  no  existence  for  the  beautiful  girl. 

"Well,  keep  your  spirits  up!"  she  was  saying 
with  easy  familiarity  to  her  maid.  **  And  you  will 
get  those  sleeves  brought  up  to  date  a  bit,  won't 
you  ?  I  shall  be  back  very  soon,  and  next  time  I 
will  take  you  with  me." 


6g  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

Ten  minutes  later  the  train  was  well  on  its  way, 
and  the  girl  was  absorbed  in  a  Society  journal.  The 
plain  young  woman  had  extracted  Morley's  "  Com- 
promise "  from  an  unpretentious  travelling-bag,  but 
her  eye  wandered  incessantly  from  the  page  to  rest 
with  keen  physical  satisfaction  on  the  exquisite  pro- 
file in  front  of  her.  "I  wish  I  could  alter  the  con- 
tour of  the  hat  a  little,"  she  said  to  herself  critically, 
"but  the  face  is  perfect." 

The  train  rattled  on,  the  voices  of  the  other  pas- 
sengers rose  and  fell :  a  lad,  hawking  swallow-be- 
decked post-cards,  stopped  expectantly  in  front  of 
the  two  girls ;  but  his  diagnosis  was  at  fault ;  the 
symbolism  was  too  obvious  for  the  one,  too  far- 
fetched for  the  other.  The  waiter  with  afternoon 
tea  found  a  better  market,  and,  as  the  two  travellers 
simultaneously  raised  their  cups,  their  eyes  met,  and, 
quite  involuntarily,  they  exchanged  a  smile.  The 
car  rocked  from  side  to  side.  With  a  frown  of  im- 
patience the  beautiful  girl  rose,  and  laid  her  cup  on 
the  table  at  which  the  other  was  sitting. 

"  It  is  getting  dark,"  she  said  tentatively. 

"Very."  The  tone  was  encouraging  on  the 
whole. 

"  Do  you  cross  to-night  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  be  rough?" 

"  I  hope  not." 

"  Are  you  a  good  sailor  ?  " 

"  Not  very.     Are  you  ? " 

"  Oh  yes.     I  am  an  old  hand." 

The  plain  young  woman  smiled,  and  withdrew 


A  GREAT  GULP.  69 

into  the  shelter  of  her  Morley.  When  they  arrived 
at  Dover  she  rose,  and,  with  that  quiet  unselfcon- 
scious  independence  which  characterizes  the  plain 
young  woman  of  the  present  day,  she  handed  her 
bag  to  the  first  porter  who  entered  the  car,  and  fol- 
lowed him  out  into  the  night.  She  was  obliged  to 
follow  him  rather  rapidly,  for,  regarded  simply  as 
a  *'  fare,"  the  plain  young  woman  is  not  very  promis- 
ing,-and  the  porter  was  anxious  to  get  back  to  the 
train  in  time  to  secure  another.  So  they  hurried 
along  the  platform  and  down  the  quay;  and  then, 
timidly  groping  her  way  down  the  dark  steps,  the 
young  woman  found  herself  on  deck. 

The  December  evening  was  mild  as  May ;  the 
water  plashed  softly  against  the  vessel  and  the  quay. 
A  delicious  sense  of  holiday,  of  escape  from  all  re- 
straint, came  upon  her.  Her  figure  grew  lithe  and 
agile  under  the  severe  folds  of  the  shabby  travelling- 
cloak,  and  with  a  step  as  light  and  elastic  as  that  of 
a  child,  she  sprang  up  and  down  companion-ways, 
reconnoitring  the  vessel  from  stem  to  stern.  In  the 
course  of  her  exploration  she  came  upon  her  ac- 
quaintance of  the  teacups,  and,  in  the  fulness  of  her 
heart  at  the  moment,  would  have  stopped  to  speak  ; 
but  the  beautiful  girl  was  engaged  in  conversation 
with  a  man.  Even  in  that  dim  light  the  plain  young 
woman  was  struck  by  his  military  bearing  and  quiet 
air  of  distinction. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  mused,  as  she  seated  herself  in 
a  dark  exposed  corner  of  the  deck,  and  allowed  her- 
self to  be  wrapped  up  to  the  ears  in  tarpaulin, — "  I 
wonder  whether  he  is  a  total  stranger,  a  chance  ac- 


70 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


quaintance,  or  an  old  friend.  Given  a  girl  like  that, 
it  is  impossible  to  say.  Nature  seems  to  mix  some 
people  without  throwing  in  so  much  as  a  suggestion 
of  immortality." 

A  wholly  unconscious  smile  of  superiority  played 
on  her  lip,  but  it  vanished  in  an  instant,  giving  place 
to  her  wonted  expression  of  quiet  thought. 

The  wind  blew  hard ;  the  Channel  steamer  rose 
and  fell  on  the  dancing  waves;  the  lights  of  land 
died  away  in  the  distance,  and  came  to  view  again ; 
and  then,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  as  of  one  roused  from 
a  pleasant  dream,  the  young  woman  went  below  to 
wash  the  brine  from  her  lips,  and  smooth  her  rebel- 
lious locks. 

To  her  surprise  the  beautiful  girl  rose  limp  and 
bedraggled  from  a  couch  in  the  saloon. 

"  I've  been  deadly  sick,"  she  said,  turning  feebly 
to  the  mirror, — "  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  too  ! 
And  I  do  believe,"  she  added  resentfully,  "you  have 
been  enjoying  it !  " 

The  plain  young  woman  tried  in  vain  to  conceal 
the  physical  exhilaration  that  radiated  from  her 
whole  being.  "I  am  a  most  disreputable  object," 
she  said,  laughing,  as  she  carelessly  straightened  her 
hat.  "  I  hope  you  will  feel  all  right  now  that  the 
pitching  is  over.     Good  evening." 

Without  giving  another  thought  to  her  compan- 
ion, she  turned  to  leave  the  saloon ;  but  a  few 
minutes  later,  when  she  entered  the  dining-car 
on  the  train,  the  beautiful  girl  motioned  to  her 
eagerly. 

"  Do    come   and   sit   at    my    table  !  "    she   said 


A   GREAT   GULF. 


71 


"  These  men  stare  so  if  a  woman  chances  to  be 
alone." 

The  plain  young  woman  smiled.  She  had  never 
been  inconvenienced  by  the  staring  of  the  men.  As 
she  sat  down,  her  eye  fell  for  the  first  time  on  a  pair 
of  long  white  hands,  blazing  with  diamonds  and 
emeralds.  To  her  inexperienced  eyes  the  jewels 
seemed  priceless,  and  a  pang  of  something  like  fear 
shot  through  her.  "  Emancipated  "  as  she  was,  she 
could  still  be  afraid  of  her  own  sex  ;  but  another  look 
at  the  girl's  face  reassured  her. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  better,"  she  said  pleasantly. 

"  Thanks.  I  shall  be  all  right  when  I  have  had 
a  pint  of  champagne.  There  is  nothing  like  it,  is 
there  ? " 

"  I  suppose  not,  but  I  am  not  an  authority. 
Champagne  hasn't  come  much  in  my  way." 

"  Are  you  going  far  ? " 

"  To  Cannes." 

"  I  never  heard  of  that  place.  How  do  you 
spell  it  ?" 

"  C-a-n-n-e-s." 

"  I  should  call  that  cans,"  said  the  girl  placidly. 
"  Where  is  it  ?     Anywhere  near  Monte  Carlo  ? " 

"Yes;  some  thirty  miles  away,  I  should  think — 
on  this  side  the  frontier." 

"  I  mean  to  go  to  Monte  Carlo  later  in  the  season 
— not  this  time.  I  am  just  running  over  to  Paris  to 
get  a  few  gowns  from  Worth.  I  often  do  that.  They 
can't  make  gowns  in  England  at  all.  You'll  see,  of 
course,  that  this  is  a  Redfern  I  have  on.  I  got  it  in 
a  hurry,  and  it  does  to  knock  about  in." 


72 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


The  plain  young  woman  looked  down  at  her  own 
home-made  serge  with  keen  appreciation  of  the  hu- 
mour of  the  situation.  "  I  think  even  that  gown  will 
pass  muster,"  she  said,  smiling, 

"  Oh,  I  know  I  am  looking  a  fright  this  evening," 
said  the  girl  discontentedly,  turning  to  the  mirror, 
and  trying  to  arrange  her  fringe.  Then  a  new 
thought  struck  her,  "  How  old  do  you  think  I 
am  ? "  she  asked  suddenly. 

"  I  can't  guess  ages." 

"  Never  mind.     You  won't  offend  me.     Guess  !  " 

"  Twenty five,"  said  the  young  woman  slowly, 

subtracting  a  year  or  two  from  her  mental  esti- 
mate. 

"  I  thought  you  would  say  twenty-seven.  Every- 
body says  so,  but  I  am  only  twenty-three.  It's  my 
manner,  I  suppose.  You  see  I  have  knocked  about 
so  much.  I  believe  I  have  travelled  over  the  whole 
world  !  Usually  I  take  my  maid  with  me,  but  I 
couldn't  afford  it  this  time.  Poor  girl,  she  was 
awfully  disappointed  ! " 

She  sighed,  and  then  took  up  an  evening  paper 
that  lay  on  the  table  beside-  her,  "  Do  you  know 
anything  about  gold  shares  ? "  she  said. 

"  I  am  told  they  are  an  amusing  thing  to  play 
with  if  you  have  a  few  hundreds  to  lose," 

The  girl  looked  up  anxiously,  **  But  I  haven't  a 
few  hundreds  to  losie,"  she  exclaimed  hastily.  "  I 
hate  losing  money.  Do  you  really  know  anything 
against  them  ?" 

She  seemed  so  genuinely  distressed  that  the 
young  woman  hastened  to  reassure  her. 


A  GREAT   GULF. 


73 


"  Don't  mind  me,"  she  said.  "  I  am  shamefully- 
ignorant  about  these  things.  If  your  man  of  busi- 
ness advised  the  investment,  no  doubt  it  is  all 
right." 

"  He  didn't  advise  it.  I  was  determined  to  have 
them.  A  friend  of  mine  made  heaps  of  money  in 
gold  mines,  and  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  make  a 
little.  It  takes  such  a  lot  of  money  to  live  nowa- 
days," she  added  pathetically.  '*  Just  look  at  this 
bill  ! — seventeen  francs — that  is  nearly  a  pound — for 
a  single  dinner  !  And  what  can  one  do  ?  One  must 
have  a  little  wine  !  " 

In  another  moment  her  whole  face  lighted  up.  A 
man  was  walking  up  the  car  with  a  lady  on  his  arm, 
and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  bow  to  him.  The  jewels 
flashed  more  brilliantly  than  ever  ;  the  picturesque 
hat  was  pushed  back  ;  the  wine  had  lent  a  more  sen- 
suous charm  to  the  beautiful  face ;  but  one  man  at 
least  was  guiltless  of  the  indiscretion  of  "staring"  : 
the  man  who  had  spoken  to  her  on  the  steamer 
passdd  her  now  without  a  glance. 

A  cloud  like  the  sudden  chill  of  sunset  came  over 
her  face.  "  Come,"  she  said  sharply,  "  let  us  go." 
When  they  reached  the' corridor  she  added,  "The 
man  will  be  making  up  your  berth,  so  you  can  come 
to  my  den  for  a  bit.  I  told  them  I  should  not  lie 
down,  as  I  leave  the  train  at  Paris." 

They  entered  the  tiny  half-compartment,  and  the 
girl  lifted  a  sealskin  coat  from  the  seat.  "  It  got 
wet  on  the  steamer,"  she  said,  "  and  I  spread  it  out 
to  dry.  If  you  don't  mind,  we'll  put  it  over  our 
knees." 


74 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  Great  honour  for  me  to  be  clad  in  such  raiment 
for  once ! " 

The  owner  of  the  coat  stroked  it  caressingly. 

"You  see  the  line  where  it  was  joined,  though, 
don't  you  ? "  she  said,  with  serious,  childlike  sim- 
plicity. "  They  said  it  wouldn't  show,  but  it  does. 
It  was  so  awfully  unlucky  !  I  bought  it  just  before 
long  coats  came  in,  and  there  it  was,  useless !  But 
you  should  see  my  new  sealskin  !  Such  a  beauty — 
nearly  down  to  my  feet !  " 

"Do  you  know,"  said  the  plain  young  woman  de- 
liberately, but  with  a  very  pleasant  smile,  "  that  you 
are  a  most  extravagant  young  woman  ?" 

"  I  know,"  was  the  eager,  self-satisfied  response. 
"  In  dress  I  am.  You  see,  dress  is  my  hobby.  I 
have  got  some  lovely  gowns  I  wish  I  could  show 
them  to  you  !  " 

"I  wish  you  could.     I  love  pretty  gowns." 

A  cloud  came  over  the  beautiful  face  again,  and 
the  girl  sighed.  '•  But  it's  all  no  use,"  she  said 
pathetically.  "  I  have  no  chance  to  wear  them. 
They  are  simply  thrown  away.  That  is  why  I  am 
going  to  Monte  Carlo.  They  do  dress  there,  don't 
they?" 

The  young  woman  looked  up  with  a  feeling  of 
something  like  reverence  for  such  utter  frankness. 
"I  don't  know,"  she  said  quietly.  "I  have  never 
been  on  the  Riviera.  I  am  only  going  now  for  my 
health — or  I  should  not  be  travelling  in  state  like  this." 

The  girl  frowned  slightly,  as  if  a  disagreeable 
subject  had  been  broached.  "  How  horrid  for  you!" 
she  said,  rather  coldly. 


A   GREAT    GULF. 


75 


A  silence  fell  on  them  after  that.  The  train 
rattled  on  through  the  night.  The  lamp  was  re- 
flected in  each  window,  but  nothing  else  was  visible. 
It  seemed  to  the  plain  young  woman  as  if  two  oddly 
assorted  human  souls  were  adrift  on  a  raft  in  the 
midst  of  eternity.  Perhaps  some  such  thought  was 
vaguely  present  also  in  the  mind  of  the  other,  for 
what  little  conventionality  they  both  possessed 
dropped  from  them  like  a  garment.  It  was  the  girl 
who  broke  the  silence. 

"I  am  feeling  awfully  low,"  she  said  suddenly. 

A  luminous  sympathetic  smile  brightened  the 
young  woman's  face.  "Are  you  ?"  she  said.  "Am 
I  to  ask  questions  ?  " 

"  I  don't  fancy  I  could  answer  them  if  you  did. 
Do  you  know  what  it  is  to  feel  as  if  you  were  always 
just  within  reach  of  something,  and  yet  never  could 
quite  get  hold  of  it  ? " 

"I  do  indeed."  The  young  woman  began  to 
modify  her  original  estimate  of  her  companion  on 
the  raft. 

"It  is  so  queer,"  continued  the  girl.  "All  we 
have  got,  people  can  take  from  us;  but  the  one  thing 
that  is  really  our  own  is  the  power  to  think  our  own 
thoughts.  Nobody  can  get  hold  of  that.  They  think 
they  have  us  in  their  power,  but  that  one  thing  they 
never  can  get.  We  are  under  their  very  eyes,  but 
they  can't  see  us  a  bit." 

She  paused.     "  And  yet,"  she  added  suddenly, 

with  a  revulsion  of  feeling  that  was  almost  dramatic 

in  its  expression,  "  the  very  thing  we  dread  most  is 

to  sit  and  think  our  own  thoughts.     We  knock  about 

6 


76  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

and  talk  and  travel,  and  do  anything  rather  than 
think.  That  is  why  I  like  my  maid  so  much.  She 
chatters  away,  and  never  lets  me  think.  I  wish  I 
had  brought  her  with  me!  I  wish  I  had  her  to- 
night ! " 

The  young  woman  could  scarcely  find  words. 
This  was  indeed  a  turning  of  the  tables.  A  moment 
before  she  had  prided  herself  innocently  on  being 
able  to  sympathize  with  an  enthusiasm  for  dress; 
and  now,  behold,  without  any  flourish  of  trumpets, 
an  incursion  had  been  made  into  her  own  particular 
realm  of  philosophy!  And  this  was  such  genuine 
philosophy,  too,  of  its  kind!  No  second-hand  r^- 
chauffS  of  modern  essays  and  magazine  articles,  but 
a  bit  of  pure,  crude,  untutored  reflection,  freshly 
secreted  from  a  human  heart  and  brain.  Her  reply, 
when  it  came,  was  not  philosophical — scarcely  even 
relevant. 

"  I  suppose  you  know,"  she  said  slowly,  leaning 
her  head  on  her  hand,  and  looking  up  into  her  com- 
panion's face,  "  that  it  is  a  little  unusual  for  a  pretty 
girl  of  twenty-three  to  be  rattling  about  the  world  in 
Worth  toilettes,  with — or  without — a  maid  as  young 
as  herself ;  investing  in  gold  shares  on  her  own  ac- 
count, and  dropping  into  casinos  as  if  they  were 
picture-galleries  ? " 

The  other  laughed  rather  unpleasantly. 

"  It  is  just  that  pretty  girl  of  twenty-three,"  she 
said,  "who  knows  life.  Men  ?  I  believe  no  woman 
living  knows  men  as  I  do.  If  I  were  to  tell  you 
things  that  have  happened,  things  that  I  have 
seen "     She  paused. 


A   GREAT   GULF.  77 

"  I  should  listen  with  deference,  but  say  that  your 
view  was  necessarily  a  one-sided  one." 

"  Why  ? "     The  word  was  a  challenge. 

"  Because  " — the  young  woman  was  surprised  at 
her  own  boldness — '*  going  about  as  you  do,  you 
don't  meet  the  best  men,  nor  see  the  best  side  of 
those  you  do  meet." 

"  You  believe  there  is  a  best  side,  do  you  ? " 

"  I  don't.     I  know  it." 

The  beautiful  lips  curled  contemptuously.  *'  If  I 
were  to  write  a  book,  and  tell  my  experiences " 

•'  Do.     I  should  read  it,  for  one." 

"  Would  you  ?  Bah  !  They're  not  worth  it."  She 
snapped  her  fingers.  "  I  don't  care  that  for  the  whole 
sex — except  one,  of  course  ! — and  he  is  horrid  :  I  be- 
lieve that  is  why  I  am  feeling  so  low  to-night." 

The  friendly  interest  which  had  brightened  the 
plain  woman's  face  died  out.  As  an  outcome  of  the 
previous  conversation,  this  was  disappointing. 

"In  that  case  I  should  be  horrid  too,"  she  said 
coldly.     "  I  would  not  break  my  heart  for  him." 

The  girl  looked  as  if  an  insult  had  been  offered 
to  her  intelligence.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  such  a 
fool,"  she  said,  "  as  to  cut  off  my  nose  to  spite  my 
face?  No,  no.  I  don't  need  anybody  to  tell  me 
what  to  do.  I  shall  wait  quite  quietly — quite  quiet- 
ly— till  he  is  nice  again, — and  then  I  will  show  him 
how  horrid  /  can  be !  " 

The  young  woman  laughed.  "Is  that  the  cor- 
rect treatment  under  the  circumstances?"  she  said. 
"It  never  would  have  occurred  to  me." 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  care  about  men  ?" 


78 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"  I  do — extremely.  I  have  one  or  two  friends, 
who " 

^^  0\  friends  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl  wearily. 

"  By  the  way,  you  had  a  friend  with  you  on  the 
steamer,  had  not  you?"  The  young  woman  de- 
spised herself  the  more  for  the  direct  question  when 
she  saw  the  colour  rise  to  the  fair  face. 

"  Yes — no — that  is,  yes,  he  is  a  sort  of  a  friend. 
I  hope  you  don't  think,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly, 
"  that  is  the  man  I  was  talking  about !  The  one  on 
the  steamer  is — well,  no  matter !  He  is  a  cut  above 
me,  anyhow ;  and  besides,  he  is  married  already.  It 
is  a  duty  to  be  kind  to  him,  poor  fellow !  His  wife's 
a  brute." 

The  little  woman  laughed — a  fresh  young  laugh. 
*'  I  am  not  an  authority  on  men,  like  you,"  she  said ; 
"but  I  should  have  thought  you  must  have  discov- 
ered that  it  is  rather  delicate  work  for  a  pretty  girl 
to  be  kind  to  a  man  '  whose  wife  is  a  brute.'  Matri- 
monial duties  and  responsibilities  can  scarcely  be 
safely  delegated." 

"Do  you  really  think  me  so  pretty?"  was  the 
eager,  irrelevant  response. 

The  plain  face  hardened, — then  broke  again  into 
a  smile.  "  I  do.  I  suppose  it  is  needless  to  add 
that  '  favour  is  deceitful  and  beauty  is  vain.'  Your 
retort  would  be  too  obvious.  But  I  don't  grudge 
you  your  quarter  of  an  hour's  start  of  me." 

"You  mean  you  don't  care  to  be  good-looking?" 

"Would  you  believe  me  if  I  said  so  ?" 

The  girl  hesitated.  "  I  never  believed  any  woman 
yet  who  said  so;  but  you "  she  broke  off  sudden- 


A   GREAT   GULF. 


79 


ly,  with  a  slight  blush.  "  You  know  I  did  not  mean 
to  say  you  were  plain,"  she  said  nervously;  "you 
are " 

"Thank  you;  that  will  do."  The  plain  young 
woman  rose  into  quiet  dignity  at  once.  "  I  suppose 
you  are  not  actually  a  Venus ;  and  my  friends,  no 
doubt,  would  tell  you  that  I  am  not  irredeemably 
ugly ;  but  we  are  speaking  broadly,  and,  broadly 
speaking,  there  is  no  doubt  that  we  are  fair  repre- 
sentatives of  the  two  classes.  You  are  a  beautiful 
woman,  and  I  am — what,  by  a  euphemism,  we  call 
plain.  Naturally  you  think  the  advantage  is  all  on 
your  side.  If  you  had  thought  of  me  at  all  when 
we  met  at  Victoria,  you  would  have  said,  '  Poor 
devil !  but  why  at  least  doesn't  she  wear  a  decent 
gown  ? '  " 

The  beautiful  girl  glanced  at  the  dark  serge 
folds,  and  tried  in  vain  to  find  a  redeeming  feature 
in  their  quiet  severity. 

"And  yet,"  continued  the  speaker,  "if  by  any 
chance  you  and  I  were  to  travel  again  to-morrow 
night  with  all  these  men,  they  would  say,  when  you 
entered  the  dining-car,  *  Here  is  that  handsome  girl 
again ! '  When  I  came  in,  it  would  never  occur  to 
any  of  them  that  they  had  seen  me  before.  Don't 
you  see  ?  I  am  invisible.  I  have  got  the  ring  of 
Gyges.  Nobody  is  on  his  guard  with  me — I  see 
people  as  they  are." 

The  young  girl  did  not  answer.  She  was  per- 
plexed, but  one  thing  was  clear  to  her  mind.  It  was 
obviously  possible  to  pay  too  high  a  price  even  for 
the  ring  of  Gyges. 


go  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

"It  must  be  such  a  responsibility  to  carry  about 
a  work  of  art  in  your  own  person,"  went  on  the 
Other.  "You  must  inherit  yourself  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  you  cease  to  inherit  the  earth." 

The  unintentional  rudeness  of  this  remark  was 
fortunately  lost  on  its  hearer. 

"I  expect,"  she  said  a  little  nervously,  "that  you 
are  very  learned." 

"  Oh  no ! "  The  young  woman  laughed  pleas- 
antly. "Well,  we  are  talking  more  or  less  hon- 
estly, so  I  will  confess  that  I  am  learned  enough 
to  "know  when  somebody  else  writes  a  good  poem, 
or  paints  a  good  picture,  or  composes  a  good — 
waltz." 

"  And  that  contents  you  ? " 

"  Sometimes.  It  leaves  room  for  other  things. 
At  the  present  moment  it  contents  me  just  to  look 
at  your  face." 

"  I  thought  you  despised  beauty  ? " 

"Then  you  are  a  fool,"  was  the  young  woman's 
mental  comment,  but  she  only  said,  "  I  don't  think 
you  can  have  thought  that.  I  don't  despise  the 
Koh-i-noor  because  I  should  not  care  to  wear  it  in 
Regent  Street." 

"Do  you  write  books  yourself?" 

"  No." 

"  Nor  paint  pictures  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Nor  compose  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Are  you  engaged  to  be  married  ? " 

"  No." 


A  GREAT   GULF.  gl 

There  was  a  half  minute's  silence,  and  then  the 
next  question  came  suddenly — 

"  Do  you  believe  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul  ? " 

Accustomed  though  the  young  woman  was  to  the 
intense  talk  of  the  youth  of  the  present  day,  the 
abruptness  of  this  attack  took  her  breath  away.  **  I 
don't  know  "  she  said,  surprised  out  of  all  caution. 
"  I  agree  with  a  great  teacher  of  mine  who  says  that 
it  is  no  concern  of  ours.  We  have  enough  light  to 
live  by  without  that.  It  is  surely  a  want  of  faith  to 
ask  for  more." 

The  girl  tapped  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  floor 
of  the  carriage.  These  were  not  the  lines  on  which 
her  mind  had  worked. 

"What  I  always  say  is,"  she  said,  "that  nobody 
ever  has  come  back.  Why  should  we  ever  have 
taken  it  into  our  heads  that  there  was  another  life  ? 
We  had  no  reason  to  think  so.  One  after  another 
goes,  but  nobody  ever  comes  back  to  tell  us." 

« '  Why  should  we  ever  have  taken  it  into  our 
heads  that  there  was  another  life  ? ' "  repeated  the 
young  woman  meditatively.  "  I  suppose — if  we  are 
to  think  of  the  matter  at  all — that  is  the  one  great 
argument  for  its  existence." 

^'■Billets,  s'il  vous plait !  " 

The  smart  young  conductor  stood  in  the  door- 
way. 

"  Oh,  bother  our  tickets ! "  exclaimed  the  girl, 
looking  up  with  a  charming  smile.  "  If  you  plague 
me,  you  shall  get  no  tip — do  you  understand?" 

The  man  bowed  with  very  evident  admiration  for 
the  lovely  speaker. 


82 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"Tell  me,"  she  went  on,  "do  you  go  all  the  way 
with  this  train  ?  " 

"Yes,  madame." 

"  To  Monte  Carlo  ? " 

"Yes,  madame." 

"  Pretty  place,  eh  ? " 

"  Oh,  but  beautiful,  madame  !  " 

"  Lots  of  pretty  gowns,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Very  pretty,  but  none  perhaps  so  pretty  as 
madame's." 

The  girl  laughed  gaily.  "  You  do  mean  to  have 
a  heavy  tip,"  she  said.  "  Shall  you  still  be  on  this 
train  in  a  month  or  two  ?  " 

"  Probably,  madame." 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  be  going  to  Monte  Carlo  then. 
No  such  luck  this  time.  Tell  us  about  the  casino. 
What  is  it  like  ?  " 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  pass,  please?"  said  the 
plain  young  woman  coldly  to  the  conductor.  In  the 
corridor  she  paused  and  looked  over  her  shoulder. 
"  I  am  going  to  see  if  my  berth  is  ready,"  she  said. 
"  I  shall  see  you  again.     Au  revoir  !  " 

But  half  an  hour  later,  when  she  returned  to  say 
good-night,  her  place  was  occupied  by  the  man 
"whose  wife  was  a  brute." 

"A  curious  acquaintance!"  said  the  young 
woman  to  herself  as  she  slipped  away  unobserved, — 
"  cuts  her  pointedly  in  the  dining-car,  and,  an  hour 
later,  settles  down  for  a  comfortable  chat  in  her 
compartment.     Save  me  from  such  friends  !  " 

And  with  this  reflection  she  betook  herself  to  bed. 


A  GREAT   GULF. 


II. 


83 


The  darkness  of  an  autumn  night  was  settling 
over  Llandudno,  but  a  rich  mellow  afterglow  still 
shone  back  from  the  placid  bosom  of  the  sea.  Away 
out  on  the  radiant  streak  a  boat  moved  impercep- 
tibly along,  and  the  soft  plash  of  the  oars  could 
be  heard  now  and  then  from  the  shore.  The  band 
had  ceased  playing,  and  most  of.  the  prome- 
naders  had  gone  home  for  the  night ;  but  down 
on  the  beach  a  little  crowd  was  gathered  still,  lis- 
tening to  the  eager  thrilling  voice  of  a  mission 
preacher. 

"Let  us  take  a  turn  along  the  parade,  if  you  are 
not  too  tired,"  said  a  young  man  to  his  companion. 
"  It  is  a  glorious  evening,  and,  now  that  the  world, 
the  flesh,  and  the  devil  have  retired,  the  place  is 
almost  bearable." 

He  spoke  with  a  pleasant  air  of  camaraderie^  and 
the  plain  young  woman  looked  up  with  a  smile. 
"  It  is  lovely,"  she  said,  "  and  I  am  not  a  bit  tired  ; 
but  I  am  afraid  I  am  Philistine  enough  to  enjoy  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  too." 

"I  must  apologize,  then,  for  taking  you  up  to  the 
solitude  of  the  Great  Orme." 

"  I  have  enjoyed  it  so  much,"  she  said  simply. 
"  It  has  been  one  of  those  walks  that  stand  out  in 
one's  memory  after  long  years.  It  is  very  good  to 
see  you  again,  Fred." 

Her  companion  did  not  answer  immediately. 

"And  I  am  so  glad  you  mean  to  devote  yourself 
to  figure-painting,"  she  went  on.     "  I  have  always 


84 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


felt  sure  that  was  your  line.  I  am  certain  you  will 
get  on  now." 

"  It  is  certainly  a  line  that  lends  itself  to  the  pro- 
duction of  pot-boilers  !  "  he  said  moodily. 

"  That's  an  advantage  I  had  not  thought  of,"  she 
answered,  laughing.  "  And  yet  I  don't  know.  One 
sees  plenty  of  pot-boiler  landscapes.  You  know  the 
kind  of  thing — finikin  foliage,  and  a  boat  with  reflec- 
tions in  the  water." 

"Yes,  I  know;  like  the  picture  I  was  so  proud  of 
getting  into  the  New  !  " 

"  I  absolutely  decline  to  rise  to  that,  Fred  ;  but  I 
am  very  glad  you  mean  to  stick  to  figures.  I  shall 
look  for  a  great  success  in  May." 

"  And  will  you  provide  the  subject?" 

"  I  might,  if  I  had  one  brilliant  idea  for  your 
twenty."  She  paused,  and  then  laughed  softly. 
"  Such  an  odd  recollection  comes  back  to  me  through 
the  years,  of  a  picture  I  planned  when  I  was  a  girl 
and  thought  I  could  paint !  It  was  to  be  called  '  The 
Shadow  of  the  Cross.'  " 

"Your  acquaintance  with  contemporary  art  must 
have  been  limited.  How  long  was  it  before  you 
exclaimed,  '■  Pereant  qui  ante  nos  nostra  dixer- 
unt! '  ?  " 

"I  never  said  that  in  my  life,"  she  answered 
proudly ;  "  and  on  that  occasion  even  my  baser 
nature  was  in  no  way  tempted  to  say  it,  for  Holman 
Hunt's  idea  was  not  *  nostra  '  at  all.  The  cross  did 
not  come  into  my  picture — it  was  supposed  to  be  on 
the  left — but  the  great  shadow  threw  its  whole  length 
across ;  and  into  the  shadow  I  put — all  my  ideals.    I 


A  GREAT  GULF. 


85 


was  wonderfully  catholic  even  then.  Of  course  a 
young  priest  was  the  prominent  figure ;  but  I  had 
soldiers,  and — I  forget  now  who  they  all  were.  Some 
of  them  accepted  the  shadow  with  rapture;  some 
were  crowding  into  it;  and  some  were  trying,  oh,  so 
hard !  to  get  out  of  it.  There  was  one  woman  of 
society — in  whose  jewels  I  revelled  in  prospect — 
stretching  out  her  arms  to  the  brightness.  Most  of 
her  figure  was  in  brilliant  light,  but  the  shadow  fell 
right  across.     Crude,  was  not  it  ?  " 

"Very,"  he  replied.  "Why  didn't  you  stick  to 
art?" 

"  I  did ;  but  I  found  it  more  profitable  to  stick  to 
other  people's." 

"  Mine,  for  instance,"  he  observed  cynically. 

"Yours,  for  instance." 

They  walked  on  for  some  time  in  silence,  till, 
gradually  rising  in  intensity  as  they  approached,  the 
voice  of  the  preacher  fell,  full,  mellow,  and  deliber- 
ate, on  their  ears — 

" '  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  He 
was  bruised  for  our  iniquities :  the  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  Him ;  and  with  His  stripes  we 
are  healed.' " 

The  two  companions  stopped  short  in  something 
like  awe.  Only  dimly  in  the  distance  could  they  see 
the  outline  of  the  motionless  little  throng;  the  won- 
derful voice  came  straight  out  of  the  darkness  of  the 
night. 

"  Don't  go,  Fred !  "  said  the  young  woman  under 
her  breath.     "  This  is  magnificent." 

"  Pity  to  spoil  the  illusion,"  he  said.    "  It  is  a  fine 


86  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

voice.  More  suited  to  the  music  of  Isaiah  than  to 
the  meeting-house  rant  you  will  hear  presently. 
Come  ! " 

"  For  an  artist  and  a  philosopher,  Fred,"  she  said 
a  moment  later,  "  not  to  add,  a  man  of  the  world, 
you  are  curiously  bigoted.  Do  you  expect  an  ab- 
stract statement  of  the  Absolute  Right  to  convert 
the  world  ?  You  are  like  a  scientist  who  wants  to 
feed  himself  and  his  fellows  in  strict  accordance  with 
a  physiological  table  of  diet,  quite  regardless  of  the 
fact  that  they  luont  eat  the  food  he  provides." 

**  Am  I  ? "  he  said  reflectively.  *'  I  don't  think  so. 
But  I  prefer  to  choose  my  own  sauce." 

"And  to  scoff  at  other  people's.?" 

"  No ;  but  I  don't  see  why  I  should  pretend  to 
share  their  tastes." 

The  young  woman  sighed.  "  It  really  is  the  great 
problem  of  life,"  she  said,  "  how  to  reconcile  absolute 
intellectual  honesty  with  intense  emotional  apprecia- 
tion of  every  striving  after  right." 

They  had  turned  back  in  their  walk,  and  now 
came  again  within  hearing  of  the  preacher's  voice — 

.« <  YYe  elder  children  grope  our  way 
From  dark  behind  to  dark  before  ; 
And  only  when  our  hands  we  lay, 
Dear  Lord,  in  Thine,  the  night  is  day, 
And  there  is  darkness  nevermore.' " 

"  Is  that  meeting-house  rant  ?"  she  asked. 
"  It  will  be  directly.    He  can't  stick  to  quotations 
for  ever.     Come  !  " 

"  No ;  I  am  going  to  join  in  the  service."     She 


A  GREAT   GULF. 


87 


sprang  lightly  down  on  the  beach,  and  then  turned 
to  look  up.  "You  are  tired  to-night,  Fred,  and  no 
wonder.     Go  home." 

"You  don't  want  me  to  come  with  you?"  he 
asked  doubtfully. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Will  you  come  for  a  walk  again  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

"  Then  I'll  call  about  ten.     Good-night." 

Very  softly  the  young  woman  made  her  way  over 
the  shingle  till  she  stood  on  the  outskirts  of  the  little 
gathering.  Then,  ascending  the  steps  of  a  stranded 
bathing-machine,  she  seated  herself  to  listen  and 
watch. 

A  lamp  by  the  preacher's  side  cast  an  uncertain 
light  on  the  eager,  upturned  faces:  one  might  have 
thought  that  here  was  a  missionary  in  a  heathen 
land,  preaching  a  new  gospel  of  salvation.  For, 
whatever  doctrine  this  man  might  teach,  there  was 
no  doubt  about  his  power  to  influence  his  fellows. 
That  smartly  dressed  lad  in  the  front  row  had 
clearly  forgotten  where  he  was ;  those  tears  were 
evidently  unusual  visitors  on  the  painted  cheeks  over 

which    they    flowed ;  that   beautiful  girl Why, 

where  in  the  world  had  she  seen  that  beautiful  face 
before  ? 

Gradually  it  all  came  back  to  her, — the  night 
journey  through  France,  the  swaying  carriage,  the 
lamp  reflected  in  the  window-panes.  In  this  dim 
light  the  girl  looked  lovelier,  almost  younger,  than 
ever ;  and  yet  it  must  be  two  ? — three  ? — years  ago. 

The  sermon  was  over,  and  a  parting  hymn  rang 


38  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

out  plaintively  over  the  water.  The  young  woman 
descended  from  her  seat,  and  was  about  to  make  her 
way  homewards,  when,  to  her  great  surprise,  the 
beautiful  girl  came  up  to  her  with  outstretched 
hand.  The  great  eyes  were  strangely  bright,  and 
the  muscles  of  the  lovely  face  quivered  in  pathetic 
self-revelation. 

"  I  thought  it  was  you,"  she  said  eagerly,  as 
though  they  had  only  parted  the  day  before.  "  I 
saw  you  come,  and  during  the  last  hymn  it  flashed 
on  me  who  you  were.  You  will  let  me  walk  home 
with  you,  won't  you?"  Her  voice  was  almost  im- 
ploring. 

"  Better  let  me  come  with  you,"  said  the  young 
woman  gently,  glancing  at  the  flushed  cheeks  and 
ruffled  hair.     "  You  look — tired." 

"  Tired  ? "  The  girl  laughed  excitedly.  "  I  never 
was  less  tired  in  my  life !  "  She  slipped  her  hand 
in  her  companion's  arm.  "  Wasn't  it  wonder- 
ful?" 

**  It  was  extremely  fine." 

The  words,  though  spoken  cordially,  struck  chill 
on  the  girl's  overstrained  mood,  and  she  turned  on 
her  companion  with  a  quick,  suspicious  glance ;  but 
the  plain  face  was  very  grave,  very  sympathetic, 
nothing  more. 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  time.  "  These 
are  my  diggings,"  said  the  girl  at  last,  her  voice  still 
shaken  by  strong  feeling.  "Won't  you  come  in? 
Do!     I  am  all  alone." 

"  Not  to-night,  I  think,  thank  you," 

"  Oh,  but  you  must!     I  want  to  talk  to  you.     I 


A   GREAT   GULF. 


89 


must  have  some  one.  Do  come  in  !  I  won't  be  left 
alone  to-night !  " 

The  full  lips  pouted  like  those  of  a  spoilt  child, 
and  an  expression  of  terror  came  into  the  great  eyes, 
as,  with  an  almost  caressing  gesture,  she  drew  her 
companion  into  the  house. 

A  bright  little  fire  burned  in  the  grate  of  a  pretty 
sitting-room,  and  a  dainty  supper  was  spread  on  the 
table.  The  window  stood  open,  but  the  air  was 
heavy  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers. 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,"  said  the  maid,  "  Colonel 
Whyte  called  while  you  were  out.  He  said  he  would 
come  again." 

The  girl  looked  at  the  speaker  for  a  moment 
with  dazed,  uncomprehending  eyes;  but  gradually  a 
deep  flush  spread  over  her  face.  "  I  quite  forgot," 
she  said.  Then  turning  to  her  companion,  she  drew 
her  hand  across  her  brow  as  if  trying  to  collect  her 
thoughts. 

"It  is  so  odd,"  she  said  dreamily,  with  a  nervous 
shiver,  "to  find  everything  going  on  just  precisely 
as  it  did  before, — supper  and  callers  and  flowers — 
and  a  jolly  fire !  Sit  down.  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
just  beginning  to  wake  from  an  extraordinary  dream 
— the  sunset  and  the  sea  and  the  darkness — and  that 
man's  voice !  I  felt  almost  as  if  the  last  day  had 
come,  as  they  used  to  tell  us  it  would,  and  it  seemed 
quite  natural  that  you  should  be  there.  Do  you 
know,  I  have  often  thought  of  you  ?  And  you  see  I 
did  know  you  again  in  spite  of — what  was  it  ? — your 
magic  ring."  She  laughed  more  naturally  now;  she 
was  regaining  her  self-control. 


QO  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"  Your  memory  is  marvellous." 

"  Oh  no ;  it  isn't  that.  I  have  no  memory  at  all. 
But  you  were  so  queer,  you  know.  I  never  met  any- 
body in  the  least  like  you." 

The  words  gave  the  plain  young  woman  an  un- 
pleasant sense  of  responsibility.  "Are  you  quite 
sure,"  she  said,  a  little  awkwardly,  "  that  this  is  not 
the  dream  ? — the  flowers  I  mean,  and  the  callers,  and 
the  fire — and  the  other  the  reality  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  ?" 

"I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  other  is  at  least 
nearer  the  reality  than  this." 

"  But  you  don't  really  believe  all  he  was  saying  ? " 

"  I  didn't  hear  it  all." 

"  I  know.  I  saw  you  come.  Are  you  engaged  to 
that  man  ?  " 

The  young  woman  found  it  difficult  to  follow 
these  conversational  gymnastics.  "  No,"  she  said 
shortly. 

"  Nor  going  to  be  ?" 

"  Nor  going  to  be." 

"  I  never  feel  quite  sure  that  you  haven't  a  trump 
card  up  your  sleeve  all  the  time." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Are  you  still  as  contented  as  ever  ?  ' 

"  I  think  so.  Life  seems  sadder  than  it  did  ;  but 
when  all  is  said,  it  is  very  beautiful." 

The  girl  sighed  impatiently.  "  I  wish  I  could  see 
where  the  beauty  comes  in !  " 

"  Well,  in  that  scene  on  the  beach,  for  instance — 
the  intense  earnestness,  the  magnetic  human  influ- 
ence, the  longing  for  better  things." 


A  GREAT   GULF. 


91 


"  And  yet  you  don't  believe  what  the  man  said  ? " 

"  At  least  he  made  me  wish  myself  a  better 
woman." 

The  girl  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  paced  up  and 
down  the  room. 

"  I  believe,"  she  said  with  intense  vehemence, 
"you  could  save  my  soul  if  you  would  tell  me  what 
it  is  you  do  believe!  " 

A  look  of  genuine  distress  came  over  the  little 
woman's  face.  "  Believe,  believe  !  "  she  said.  "  Why 
do  you  talk  so  much  about  belief  ?  I  believe  it  is 
worth  while  trying  to  be  good." 

"  Why  ?  Is  there  another  life  after  this  ?  Is 
there  a  heaven  ? " 

"  Here  at  least — yes." 

"And  a  hell?" 

"Yes." 

"  Where  we  shall  burn  ? — really  burn  " — she  put 
her  pretty  finger  close  to  the  bar  of  the  grate — "  to 
hurt?" 

"  It  would  be  a  poor  look-out  for  us  if  it  did  not 
hurt ;  but  some  people  never  seem  to  feel  it." 

The  girl  laughed.  "  I  know  what  you  mean,"  she 
said.  "  I  once  heard  a  clergyman  say  that.  You 
mean  that  I  am  in  hell  now." 

"  God  forbid  !  I  don't  need  to  go  beyond  my 
own  experience.  But  I  never  cared  to  stay  in  hell 
long." 

"  I  don't  know.     One  might  be  in  a  worse  place. 
I  am  afraid,"  she  went  on,  with  a  weird  laugh,  "  I 
am  one  of  the  people  who  are  not  sensitive  enough 
to  feel  it !  " 
7 


92 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


The  little  woman  shuddered.  "  Don't !  "  she 
said. 

"Why  not  ?  "  The  splendid  figure  drew  itself  up 
defiantly.  "Why  should  I  talk  gammon  to  you? 
What  do  you  in  your  grey  little  world  know  of  life, 
of  temptation  ?" 

"  More,  perhaps,  than  you  think." 

"  Bah  !  It  is  easy  for  you  to  talk  of  *  trying  to 
be  good'!     Were  you  ever  in  love?     Were  you  ever 

married  ?    Were  you  ever "  she  hesitated,  looked 

straight  into  the  honest  eyes,  and  then  continued 
boldly,  "  Were  you  ever  married  and  then  in  love  ? " 

For  the  first  time  the  young  woman's  eye  fell  on 
the  plain  gold  circlet  which  had  replaced  some  of 
the  flashing  gems.  "  I  did  not  know,"  she  said, 
weakly,  "  that  you  were  married.  I  remember — 
that  night — you  told  me  there  was  a  difference 
between  you  and  the  man  you  cared  for." 

"  If  only  it  had  lasted  !  God  !  if  only  the  differ- 
ence had  lasted !  His  coldness  piqued  me,  don't 
you  know  ? — he  had  been  so  much  at  my  feet ; 
and  I  was  so  determined  to  win  him  back  that  I 
don't  think  I  realized  how  much  I  had  begun  to 
think  of  somebody  else.  But  somebody  else  wasn't 
— wasn't  *  free,'  as  the  library  books  say  ;  and — and 
it  was  time  I  was  getting  settled.  I  had  lost  money 
in  gold  shares,  and  my  life  was  all  in  a  muddle,  and 
I  hadn't  the  society  I  was  entitled  to  at  all.  So  I 
married — and  then  I  knew  that  I  loathed  him — and 
somebody  else's  wife  died.  If  there  is  a  God  at  all, 
it  just  seemed  as  if  he  was  laughing  at  me  !  What 
was  the  use  of   making  me   pretty,  and  giving  me 


A   GREAT   GULF. 


93 


money  to  buy  nice  clothes,  if  I  am  never  to  be 
happy — never,  never  to  have  what  I  want  ?  And 
my  youth  is  slipping  away,  and  nobody  seems  able 
to  tell  me  whether  there  is  another  world  or  not. 
I  meet  people — clever  men  who  ought  to  know ! — 
who  say  it  is  all  moonshine ;  and  you  would  have 
me  grow  old  and  ugly,  ^  trying  to  be  good' \  Do  you 
know  " — she  fell  on  her  knees,  and  threw  her  arms 
across  her  companion  in  magnificent  abandonment 
— "  I  almost  wish  you  would  tell  me  there  is  no 
other  life,  for  then  I  could  have  what  I  want  in 
this ! " 

"  Colonel  Whyte,  ma'am,"  said  the  maid. 

With  a  bound  the  girl  sprang  to  her  feet,  and 
raised  her  hands  to  her  dishevelled  hair.  "  I  have 
kept  you  an  unconscionable  time,"  she  said,  with  a 
nervous  laugh,  "and  no  doubt  you  are  longing  to 
get  home.  It  was  awfully  good  of  you  to  come 
in!" 

The  young  woman  had  flushed  as  though  some 
one  had  struck  her.  "  Yes,"  she  said  quietly,  "  it 
is  time  I  was  at  home.     Good-night." 

Before  she  had  reached  the  threshold,  however, 
the  uncomfortable  sense  of  her  own  responsibility 
came  back  upon  her. 

"  Where  is  your  husband  ? "  she  said  earnestly, 
laying  her  hand  on  her  companion's  arm,  "Who  is 
this  man  ?" 

But  the  tide  had  turned. 

The  girl  looked  annoyed  and  nonplussed  for  a 
moment,  then  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"Come  in,   Colonel!"   she  cried.     "Here   is    a 


04  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

young  lady  who  is  anxious  to  make  your  acquaint- 
ance." 

Without  another  word  or  glance  the  little  woman 
slipped  past  the  waiting  figure  in  the  hall,  and  made 
her  way  out  into  the  night. 


III. 

"Well,  this  is  a  change  from  smoky  London 
lodgings !  " 

The  plain  young  woman  stood  with  a  friend  at 
the  open  window  of  the  hotel.  A  heavy  shower  had 
fallen  in  the  afternoon,  but  now  the  sun  was  shining 
genially,  and  the  subtle,  invigorating  fragrance  of 
the  heather  was  borne  in  from  the  Yorkshire  moors. 

"We  have  earned  our  holiday  honestly,  haven't 
we  ?  and  we  mean  to  make  the  most  of  it.  Three 
whole  7veeks  !  For  three  weeks  we  are  going  to  bask 
on  the  heather,  and  read  Heine,  and  look  up  at  the 
blue  sky :  we  will  forget  that  we  ever  attended  a 
woman's  suffrage  meeting,  or  interviewed  a  celebri- 
ty, or  described  what  royalty  wore.  We  have  left 
our  moral  responsibilities  behind,  too.  It  is  a  duty, 
a  positive  duty,  to  cultivate  the  sentiments  and  the 
emotions.  I  hope  there  will  be  some  pretty  gowns  at 
dinner.  I  hope  there  will  be  lots  of  courses — lots — 
daintily  served  !  We  are  grand  ladies,  Rita,  you  and 
I — for  three  weeks  ! — and  we  know  how  things  ought 
to  be  done.  Do  you  think  we  can  afford  half  a  bot- 
tle of  M^doc?" 

The  plain  face  looked  older  than  at  Llandudno  ; 


A   GREAT    GULF. 


95 


but  the  lines  that  took  from  its  fresh  youthfulness 
were  genial,  friendly  lines,  such  as  endear  a  face  to 
those  who  know  it. 

"  Change  your  gown,  dear  girl,  and  don't  chatter. 
The  gong  will  sound  in  ten  minutes." 

"  Sadly  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  grand  lady,  isn't 
it,  to  dress  in  ten  minutes  ?     Heigho  !  " 

She  slipped  on  an  old-fashioned  black  silk,  and 
went  to  explore  the  possibilities  of  the  reading-room 
before  going  down-stairs. 

Two  ladies  were  sitting  there  in  earnest  conver- 
sation. They  lowered  their  voices  slightly  when 
the  plain  young  woman  entered ;  but,  as  she  stood 
by  the  window,  newspaper  in  hand,  she  could  hear 
every  word. 

"  — all  her  life  men  have  treated  her  better  than 
she  deserves.  Her  husband  actually  offered  to  take 
her  back;  but  when  she  refused,  of  course  he  insti- 
tuted proceedings  for  divorce.  The  action  was 
quite  undefended,  and,  as  soon  as  it  was  over, 
Colonel  Whyte  married  her." 

The  plain  young  woman  grasped  her  newspaper 
more  tightly,  and  turned  her  back  upon  the  speaker. 

"  It  was  a  great  surprise  to  every  one,  for  so- 
cially she  was  very  much  beneath  him,  and  of  course 
they  were  cut  by  all  the  nice  people.  I  am  told  she 
was  a  mere  adventuress  !  " 

"  American,  was  not  she  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  I  believe  she  left  America  when  quite 
a  girl.  She  prides  herself  on  being  cosmopolitan. 
Cosmopolitan,  forsooth  !  " 

"  And  is  she  still  as  fascinating  as  ever  ?" 


96 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  When  I  saw  her  drive  up  to  the  door  on  Satur- 
day afternoon,  I  thought  she  was  handsomer  than  at 
the  time  of  her  marriage.  She  has  a  better  colour — 
I  don't  think  it  is  rouge — and  I  never  saw  such  eyes 

— simply  lustrous !     But  tvhen  she  comes  near " 

the  speaker  nodded  significantly.  "  Her  age  will 
soon  begin  to  show,  I  can  assure  you ! " 

Very  eagerly  the  plain  young  woman  scanned 
the  faces  assembled  at  table  d'hote,  but  without  find- 
ing the  one  she  sought.  Five  years  must  have  made 
a  change,  no  doubt ;  but  even  when  all  allowance 
was  made  for  that,  there  was  no  woman  present  who 
could  by  any  possibility  be  the  cidevant  beautiful 
girl. 

Dinner  was  more  than  half  over  when  the  door 
opened,  and  a  lady  and  gentleman  were  ushered  up 
to  a  small  table  in  the  window.  Ah,  there  was  no 
doubt  about  it  now  !  The  plain  young  woman  would 
have  known  that  face  again  anywhere. 

And  it  was  more  beautiful  than  ever ! — transpar- 
ent, pensive,  etherealized.  Poor  soul,  she  must  have 
suffered ! 

Was  it  more  beautiful  ?  A  sudden  turn  of  the 
head  had  brought  into  startling  relief  the  hollow  in 
the  oval  of  the  cheek ;  and  was  it  not  too  transpar- 
ent ?  was  the  flush — deepening  as  the  evening  went 
on — not  almost  that  of  hectic  ? 

Scarcely  a  word  was  passing  between  the  two  in 
the  window.  The  gentleman's  manner  was  uni- 
formly courteous ;  but  it  would  have  been  hard  to 
say  which  face  bore  more  evident  marks  of  ennui,  of 
disillusion. 


A  GREAT   GULF. 


97 


The  plain  young  woman  gazed  as  if  fascinated, 
only  responding  absently  now  and  then  to  the  re- 
marks of  her  companion.  At  last  the  beautiful 
head  turned,  the  wonderful  eyes  looked  straight 
across  to  where  she  sat.  It  was  a  mere  glance  at 
first,  then  a  puzzled  look,  and  then  a  showy  lorg- 
nette was  raised  for  a  deliberate  stare.  It  dropped 
again  presently,  and  its  owner  made  no  sign  of 
recognition. 

"It  would  have  been  strange  if  she  had  known 
me  again — or  cared  to  know  me  !  "  mused  the  young 
woman,  as  she  rose  to  leave  the  table.  "  Is  this 
the  curtain  at  last,  I  wonder, — or  only  another 
drop  ?  " 

Some  minutes  later  the  chamber-maid  knocked  at 
her  door  with  a  visiting-card.  A  few  lines  were 
scrawled  on  the  back — 

"  Do  come  to  my  room  for  a  few  minutes.  My 
husband  has  just  gone  out.     No.  8,  ist  floor." 

No.  8  was  a  fine  room,  and  its  occupant  lay 
stretched  on  a  chaise  longue  in  the  oriel  window. 

"Come  along!"  she  said  rather  wearily,  but 
with  the  old  charming  smile.  "  How  odd  that  we 
should  meet  again  !  I  can't  think  how  I  recognized 
you.  Sit  down.  That  is  rather  a  comfortable 
chair." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  not  very  well." 

"Who  could  be  well  in  this  hateful  place?  The 
sharp  air  makes  me  cough  incessantly.  What  ever 
induced  you  to  come  ?  And  yet  I  don't  know. 
These  cold,  grey  moors  are  admirably  in  keeping 
with  your  philosophy.     I  wonder," — she  looked  up 


98 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


with  an  arch  smile — "  I  wonder  if  you  are  still  *  try- 
ing to  be  good  '  ?" 

The  young  woman  walked  to  the  window  and 
looked  out  on  the  daffodil  sky  and  rich  purple 
heather, 

"  Cold, — grey  !  "  she  said.  "  Why,  it  is  all  blaz- 
ing with  colour!  " 

"And  you  know  the  Riviera!  It  seems  to  me 
yo.u  carry  your  own  world  about  with  you,  and  see 
things  that  are  invisible  to  ordinary  mortals.  What 
was  it  Jack  was  quoting  last  night  ? — 

'  Oh,  the  dreary,  dreary  moorland  ! ' 

And  these  long  evenings  depress  me  unspeakably. 
If  you  had  only  heard  the  church  bells  yesterday  ! 
I  thought  they  would  drive  me  mad  before  they 
stopped.  I  want  sunshine — real  sunshine — and  roses 
and  blue  water  !  I  am  making  my  husband  take  me 
away  the  first  thing  to-morrow ;  and  he  has  gone  out 
now  to  see  if  there  is  nothing  going  on  that  would 
pass  away  the  time  for  an  hour  or  two." 

She  was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  re- 
sumed with  a  light  sneer  that  only  half  concealed 
her  nervousness,  "  You  know  all  about  me,  I  pre- 
sume ?  I  have  become  quite  a  celebrity  since  we 
met." 

"  Yes,  I  heard  that  you  had  married  Colonel 
Whyte." 

"  Saintly  of  him,  wasn't  it  ?  All  the  good  women 
said  so.     Ugh,  how  I  hate  good  women  !  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  the  plain  young  woman 
almost  tenderly,  "  I  don't  think  you  should  go  out 


A  GREAT   GULF.  gg 

to-night.  If  your  husband  goes  I  will  come  and 
read  you — something  amusing.  You  are  wearing 
yourself  out." 

A  curious  look  of  fear  came  into  the  beautiful 
eyes — a  look  that  was  only  made  the  more  pathetic 
by  the  laugh  which  hastened  to  hide  it. 

*'  You  think  I  am  a  gone  case,  do  you  ?  How 
long  do  you  give  me?  Two  years?  One?  Six 
months? " 

"  Don't  talk  nonsense  !  "  said  the  other  sharply. 
"You  are  knocking  yourself  to  pieces  at  present. 
Take  a  little  ordinary  care,  and  you  will  be  all 
right." 

A  fit  of  coughing  was  the  only  answer.  Hastily 
the  beautiful  woman  lifted  her  handkerchief  to  her 
lips,  and  in  another  moment  its  snowy  folds  were 
stained  with  a  crimson  drop. 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?  "  she  said  quickly. 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  often  seen  it  before  in  people 
who  are  well  and  strong  now.  It  means  that  you 
must  rest,  and  take  care  of  yourself,  and  get  strong." 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  The  answer  came  like  the  clang 
of  a  passing-bell.  "  No  need  to  tell  me  what  it 
means!  I  have  seen  it  all  in  my  mother.  I  am 
getting  thin  " — she  slipped  the  rings  from  her  long 

white  fingers — "  and  my  neck But  you  never 

saw  my  neck  in  the  old  days !  "  she  interposed  re- 
gretfully.    "  I  had  a  dark  velvet  gown but  there  ! 

— that's  past."  There  was  dead  silence  in  the  room 
for  a  few  moments,  then,  ''  You  could  have  saved  me 
if  you  had  wished,"  she  said. 

"  Saved  you  ?  " 


lOo  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

*'0h,  not  from  this!  This  is  nothing.  Do  you 
remember  that  night  on  the  beach  ?  I  was  screwing 
up  my  courage  to  go  and  speak  to  that  man ;  but  I 
looked  at  you,  and  saw  you  did  not  believe  a  word 
of  it." 

"  Oh ! "  cried  the  little  woman,  with  a  sharp 
cry  as  of  physical  pain.  "  Surely  I  never  said 
that  ? " 

"  No,  you  did  not  say  it ;  but  you  looked  as  if 
you  had  found  something  better,  don't  you  know  ? 
And  your  something  better  was  too  good  for 
me." 

"But,  dear  child,  it  is  not  too  late.  If  I  were 
you  " — she  threw  back  her  head — "  I  would  make  a 
fresh  start  now — this  very  minute  !  " 

The  other  nodded  slowly.  "1  believe  jv^«  would, 
even  if  you  were  dying,"  she  said.  "  Oh,  I  know 
you  have  got  hold  of  some  thread  in  life,  something 
that  is  worth  having;  but  you  don't  seem  able  to  put 
it  into  words  much.  Well,  well,  it  doesn't  matter ! 
I  don't  suppose  my  soul  was  worth  saving — and,  I 
daresay,  it  was  all  bunkum  after  all.  When  you 
come  to  think  of  it,  nobody  ever  has  come  back. — Is 
that  you,  Jack  ?  Come  in  !  Let  me  introduce  you 
to  my  friend " 

She  broke  off  with  a  laugh  less  musical  than  of 
old.  **  I  declare  I  don't  even  know  your  name ! 
Never  mind ;  we  are  old  friends  all  the  same,  I 
assure  you.     Well,  what  luck  ?" 

The  newcomer  seated  himself  with  a  sigh  of  resig- 
nation, and  looked  at  his  watch.  "  There  is  a  revival 
meeting,"  he  said,  "  in  the  conventicle  down  the  way, 


A  GREAT   GULF.  iqi 

and  a  performance  of  '  Johnny's  Mamma  '  in  the 
Town  Hall." 

The  beautiful  lips  pouted  peevishly. 

'*  *  Johnny's  Mamma  ' !  I've  seen  it  a  hundred 
times.     Never  mind  !     It  will  help  to  pass  the  time. 

Good-bye,  Miss Smith  ?     I  might   have  known 

it  was  Smith !  Come  along,  Jack.  We  shall  be 
awfully  bored,  but  we'll  show  the  folks  a  Parisian 
bonnet  for  once  in  their  lives  !  " 


THE   KNIGHT  AND  THE   LADY. 

Mein  Kind,  wir  waren  Kinder, 
Zwei  Kinder,  klein  und  froh. 


Vorbei  sind  die  Kinderspiele, 
Und  Alles  rollt  vorbei. — Heine. 


She  was  as  winsome  a  little  lady  as  heart  could 
wish,  and  I  don't  suppose  she  ever  looked  sweeter 
than  she  did  that  autumn  night  in  the  gloaming, 
when  all  the  brilliant  colours  of  the  sunset  shone 
faintly  back  from  her  fresh  white  frock. 

She  had  climbed  half-way  up  the  great  wooden 
gate  of  the  carriage-drive,  so  that  her  dimpled 
elbows  could  rest  on  the  top.  The  smooth  beech 
hedge  swept  round  behind  her,  throwing  its  cool 
green  tints  into  the  folds  of  her  baby  skirt;  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  drive,  the  silver-grey  pods  of 
an  old  laburnum  dangled  caressingly  above  her 
dainty  head.  And  well  they  might ;  for  the  bat- 
tered sun-bonnet  had  fallen  back,  and  the  fluffy  red- 
gold  curls  were  blown  about  a  face  that  reminded 
one  of  the  budding  moss-roses  a  few  yards  off. 

"  Happy  laburnum  !  "  I  had  said  one  day  when  I 

IQS 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


103 


found  her  thus — for  the  old  gate  was  a  favourite 
watch-tower,  and  a  small  worn  patch  on  the  paint 
of  the  centre  bar  bore  witness  to  the  frequent  pres- 
sure of  her  baby  feet — "  happy  laburnum  !  When 
you  grow  a  little  taller,  he'll  be  able  to  kiss  you. 
That's  what  all  the  other  old  trees  are  gossiping  and 
laughing  about.     Do  you  hear  ? " 

Her  face  grew  very  solemn  for  a  moment,  and 
then  she  broke  into  a  scornful  little  laugh. 

*'  Why,  that's  the  wind ! "    she  said    contemptu- 
ously.    "You  talk  like  the  fairy-books." 
'*  And  of  course  you  don't  believe  them  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  half  regretfully. 

"I  haven't  believed  them  since  I  was — oh, 
such  a  7vee  little  girl.  I  haven't  believed  them 
since " 

"  Since  when  ?" 

"  Since  I  saw  Auntie  putting  the  things  in  my 
stocking." 

"You  ought  to  have  been  asleep!"  I  said  indig- 
nantly, for  I  had  very  definite  ideas  as  to  how  a 
well-organized  child  ought  to  behave  in  the  great 
affairs  of  life. 

"I  lay  awake  on  purpose,"  she  said  placidly; 
"but  of  course  I  b'etended  to  be  asleep,  or  Auntie 
would  have  gone  away  again."  She  sighed.  "  I 
did  so  dreadfully  want  it  all  to  be  true — Santa 
Claus,  I  mean — but  it  was  no  use  if  it  wasn't 
real." 

"  Child  of  the  age  !  "  I  exclaimed  with  a  smile  and 
a  sigh.  "  No  use  at  all,  of  course.  Well,  ta-ta ! 
Poor  old  laburnum!     You'll  hold  up  your  head  like 


104 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


a  man  if  you  take  my  advice.  There's  an  awful 
snubbing  in  store  for  you  if  you  don't." 

The  little  lady  nearly  toppled  off  her  perch  in 
the  effort  to  see  the  presumptuous  spray  above  her 
head. 

"  Horrid  old  thing  !  "  she  said  indignantly.  "  Do 
you  know  it's  poisonous  1  Nursie  found  me  eating 
green  peas  in  the  garden  one  day,  and  she  said  if  I 
ate  one  single  laburnum  seed  by  mistake — I'd 
dieV 

Her  blue  eyes  grew  round  with  horror  as  she 
approached  this  climax ;  but  that  expression  soon 
gave  way  to  an  apologetic  little  smile. 

"  Of  course  Nursie's  an  old  silly,"  she  said  with 
the  air  of  a  mature  philosopher  who  has  reconciled 
himself  to  the  conviction  that  his  fellow-countrymen 
are  "  maistly  fules."  "  I  believe  she  thinks  I'm  a 
baby  still."  This  with  a  pregnant  side-glance  at  me. 
"As  if  pea-pods  grew  on  trees,  and  were  skinny  and 
knubbly  like  that!" 

But  here  I  am  maundering  on  with  my  own 
recollections  of  the  little  lady,  when  I  only  wanted 
to  tell  the  tale  of  the  fairing  she  got  from  Duncairn. 
Poor  little  lady !  I  heard  her  try  to  tell  the  story 
herself  the  other  day,  in  the  gay,  bright  world  that 
has  just  claimed  her  as  its  own ;  and  I  loved  her 
none  the  less  when  the  eager  cultured  voice  broke 
down  in  a  childlike  sob. 

Yes,  it  was  her  watch-tower,  that  great  wooden 
gate, — the  coign  of  vantage  from  which  she  looked 
out  with  longing  eyes  on  the  forbidden  world.  Not 
much  of  a  world,  I  admit,  if  it  had  not  been  forbid- 


THE   KNIGHT   AND   THE    LADY. 


105 


den  !  Only  a  dusty  private  road,  separated  from  the 
turnip-field  beyond  by  a  great  uneven  bank,  topped 
by  scraggy  ash-trees,  and  starred  over  with  blue- 
eyed  speedwells  and  yellow  tormentilla. 

Behind  her  lay  the  territory  in  which  she  was 
free  to  roam  at  will, — one  of  those  rare  old  gardens, 
the  very  memory  of  which  is  a  legacy  of  peace  and 
rest  to  many  a  weary  soul.  A  garden  where  the 
spacious  strawberry-bed  was  bounded  by  old  world 
roses;  where  an  occasional  hedge  of  sweet-peas 
broke  the  monotony  of  kail  and  brocoli ;  where,  even 
in  the  show-beds  under  the  sitting-room  windows, 
dear  old  flowers  that  most  of  us  have  not  seen  since 
childhood  straggled  at  random  over  the  warm  brown 
earth,  and  followed  their  own  wild  will. 

But  at  this  stage  of  her  development  my  lady 
was  pleased  to  consider  that  she  had  exhausted  the 
possibilities  of  the  garden.  True,  she  had  woven 
countless  daisy-chains  on  the  dear  old  lawn,  where 
nobody  presumed  to  think  the  daisies  out  of  place; 
she  had  pinched  her  fingers  with  the  passive  Snap- 
dragon, and  made  him  act  the  part  of  whale  in  the 
wondrous  drama  of  Jonah ;  she  and  her  dolls  had 
made  believe  to  dine  on  "rice  and  curry"  from  the 
marguerites,  and  on  "  mince "  from  the  luxuriant 
tufts  of  red  sorrel,  which  to  be  sure  had  no  business 
at  all  in  the  cabbage-bed ;  she  had  captured  a  few 
unhappy  caterpillars,  in  order  to  determine  for  her- 
self whether  the  story  of  their  turning  into  butter- 
flies must  not  be  relegated  to  the  despised  region  of 
fairy  tales,  but  had  wisely  decided  on  the  third  day 
that  life  was  too  short  for  an  experiment  so  pro- 


Io6  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

longed ;  she  had  even  made  attar  of  roses,  with 
liberal  help  from  the  tarred  old  water-butt  beside 
the  tool-shed,  and  had  succeeded  in  persuading  her- 
self for  nearly  two  days  that  the  gruesome  compound 

was  going  to  prove  a  success ;  she  had But  no,  I 

cannot  honestly  maintain  that  she  had  exhausted  the 
true  inwardness  of  the  strawberry-bed.  Such  de- 
lights, however,  are  apt  to  pall,  even  at  the  mature 
age  of  six,  and  in  my  little  lady's  case  their  enjoy- 
ment was  hedged  in  by  divers  restrictions  which 
prevented  their  being  by  any  means  always  avail- 
able. 

So  she  stood  on  the  gate,  looking  out  on  the  for- 
bidden world — as  many  a  captive  maid  has  done  be- 
fore her — a  forlorn  little  beauty  that  only  a  knight 
with  a  heart  of  stone  could  resist. 

A  long,  long  time  passed — nearly  five  minutes 
perhaps — and  then  an  approaching  figure  came  in 
sight, — surely  the  quaintest  little  knight  you  ever 
beheld! 

He  was  shuffling  along  in  hob-nailed  shoes  a  size 
too  big  for  him,  and  he  wore  a  shabby  corduroy  suit 
several  sizes  too  small.  The  elbows  and  baggy 
knees  were  worn  quite  threadbare,  and  manifold 
patches  of  varying  date  covered  the  regions  of  maxi- 
mum wear  and  tear.  And  yet  it  had  a  beauty  of  its 
own,  that  poor  old  suit.  It  had  weathered  sun  and 
rain,  and  outdoor  play  and  toil,  till  bounteous  Mother 
Nature  had  almost  come  to  look  on  it  as  one  of  her 
children,  and  had  warmed  its  shabby  surface  into 
something  not  unlike  the  mellow  tints  with  which 
she  clothes  the  walls  and  tree-trunks. 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


107 


But,  alas !  **  the  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  it 
all ;  "  and,  even  if  he  had  been  a  born  painter,  I  fear 
the  little  knight  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world  to 
be  consoled  by  his  own  artistic  value.  He  knew  well 
how  great  a  gulf  separated  him  socially  from  the 
little  lady,  for — although  a  sort  of  tacit  excfeption 
was  made  in  his  own  particular  case,  on  the  ground 
that  he  was  a  "  cannie  laddie," — he  was  aware  that 
a  well-defined  rule  forbade  her  speaking  to  the  cot- 
tar-children unless  some  responsible  person  was  at 
hand. 

He  saw  her  now,  of  course,  the  moment  he  came 
in  sight  of  the  gate;  but,  boylike,  he  pretended  not 
to  see  her,  while  at  the  same  time  he  clutched  his 
old  cap  with  an  awkward  gesture  that  might  easily 
have  been  taken  for  an  accident.  From  which  you 
may  guess  that,  although  he  was  only  a  common 
Scotch  laddie,  this  little  knight  of  mine,  he  was  rich 
in  the  possession  of  a  good  mother  with  old-fashioned 
ideas  on  the  subject  of  "mainners." 

The  little  lady  grasped  the  top  bar  of  the  gate 
with  her  chubby,  sunburnt  hands,  and,  bending  low 
over  it  to  send  her  voice  across  the  road,  she  called 
in  a  mysterious  whisper — 

"San-dy!" 

The  boy  turned  his  head,  smiled  somewhat  sheep- 
ishly, and  continued  his  shuffling  gait. 

^^  Sandy!"  she  called  imperiously. 

No  man  on  earth  could  have  resisted  that, — not 
even  a  man  of  nine ;  so  he  crossed  the  road  rather 
doubtfully,  and  lifted  an  honest,  brown  Scotch  face, 
framed  with  straight  fair  hair.     It  was  not  at  all  a 


I08  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

remarkable  face;  only  serious,  "  cannie "  (as  the 
cottar-folk  said),  with  sweet  gentle  curves  about  the 
firm  little  mouth. 

"  Cut  me  a  switch  ! "  said  the  little  queen. 

Oh,  Rosie,  Rosie,  did  you  even  then  read  the 
other  sex  by  instinct  ?  How  could  you  possibly 
know  Sandy's  weak  point,  the  straight  road  to  his 
heart  ?  How  could  you  know  that  only  the  day  be- 
fore he  had  found  a  knife  by  the  roadside  ?  Old 
and  rusty,  it  is  true,  and  with  the  large  blade  broken 
across ;  but  an  honest  knife  still,  and  one  that  re- 
sponded bravely  to  a  long  course  at  the  grind- 
stone. 

Sandy's  grave  little  face  shone  like  a  sunbeam, 
and,  darting  across  the  road,  he  hastily  examined 
the  undergrowth  of  the  nearest  ash,  in  search  of  a 
suitable  switch.  He  chose  a  royal  one  at  length, 
and  the  brave  knife  was  already  at  work  on  it  as  he 
crossed  the  road  again  to  her  side. 

*'  No,  no,  no  !  "  she  cried,  with  an  impatient  little 
stamp  of  her  foot.  "Don't  peel  the  skin  off;  you'll 
make  it  sticky !  And  let  the  leaves  alone,  please," 
she  continued  more  gently,  mollified  by  his  instant 
obedience.     "I'll  pull  them  off  for  myself." 

He  handed  up  the  switch,  and  wiped  the  trusty 
blade  on  his  sleeve  rather  ostentatiously,  hoping  she 
would  take  notice  of  it ;  but  my  lady's  cleverness, 
after  all,  had  its  limitations. 

"They're  gey  teuch,"  he  said  deprecatingly,  after 
a  pause,  pointing  to  the  switch  in  her  hand.  "It's 
ill  gethrin'  them  withoot  a  knife." 

But  the  lady  was  examining  the  points  of   the 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


109 


switch  with  a  critical  eye,  and  did  not  deign  to  notice 
his  treasure  at  all. 

So  poor  little  Sandy  was  reduced  to  a  direct 
attack.  "It's  an  auld  ane,"  he  said  humbly,  holding 
it  up  to  her,  "an'  no  by-ordinar  bonny;  but  it's  a 
braw  ane  to  cut !  " 

She  looked  at  it  with  fastidious  eyes. 

"  It's  very  ugly,"  she  said  candidly.  "  You  should 
see  my  Auntie's  knife!  It's  a  teeny-weeny  thing 
the  colour  of  bluey-white  milk." 

He  did  not  answer  immediately.  He  was  too 
much  of  a  philosopher  not  to  have  discovered  before 
now  that  women  cannot  be  expected  to  look  at 
things  from  a  man's  point  of  view. 

"  Ay,"  he  said  slowly  at  last,  "  I've  nae  doobt 
it's  bonny ;  but  I  wadna  wunner  if  she'd  no  be 
muckle  pleased  gin  she  catched  ye  cuttin'  switches 
wi't !  " 

This  argument  was  irrefutable,  and  Sandy  was 
emboldened  to  proceed.  , 

"  Noo  mines,"  he  said,  "is  no  fit  for  the  like 
o'  her;  but  it's  unco  stoot ;  in  fac'" — why  not 
clinch  the  argument  at  once? — "it's  like  my 
faither's !  " 

But  the  little  lady  was  once  more  absorbed  in 
her  switch.  "  There !  "  she  said  at  last,  holding  it  up 
in  well-pruned  elegance.  "  Next  time  Nursie  takes 
me  to  see  the  pigs,  I'll  switch  the  flies  off  their  backs  ! 
Sandy,  mustn't  it  be  dreadful  to  be  a  pig?  " 

Sandy  gazed  open-mouthed.  His  imagination  was 
not  equal  to  the  strain  she  put  upon  it. 

"  They're  so  hidjus,"  she  went  on,  "  that's  the  first 


no  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

thing;  and  then  they're  always  in  a  mess, — that's 
the  second  thing;  and  then — Fm  quite  sure  their  tails 
are  no  use  at  all !  " 

Sandy  listened  in  respectful  silence  to  this  lecture 
on  Natural  History. 

"  It  would  have  been  so  easy  for  God,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  even  if  He  wanted  to  make  them  ugly,  to 
give  them  proper  tails.  Look  how  the  horses  can 
swish  the  flies  off !  And  they  don't  need  to  half  so 
badly  with  their  thick  coats.  I  think  its  dreadful ; 
and  then  on  hot  days — Ugh  !  " 

Sandy  ventured  humbly  on  a  practical  view  of 
the  case,  even  although  it  was  not  strictly  relevant. 

"  My  Mither  says  whiles  she  disna  ken  what  we'd 
dae,  wantin'  oor  pig.  Mony's  the  time  my  Faither 
himsel'  hasna  a  bite  o'  butcher-meat  frae  Sawbath  to 
Sawbath ! " 

This  was  beneath  contempt. 

"  Swing  me,  Sandy  !  "  said  her  ladyship  serenely, 
moving  like  a  crab  to  the  end  of  the  gate  where  she 
would  get  the  benefit  of  the  maximum  motion. 

Sandy  looked  round  doubtfully.  "  I  doobt  she'd 
no  be  pleased  gin  she  catched  us  at  it." 

"  Who  ? "  asked  the  child  frowning.  "  Auntie  has 
gone  away;  she  won't  be  back  till  to-morrow  night. 
Nursie  is  at  supper." 

"  An'  she's  left  ye  here  yer  lane  ?  " 

"Oh  no!  Sarah  is  taking  care  of  me;  but  she 
met  a  gentleman  she  knew,  and — I  t/iink — she's  giv- 
ing him  some  raspberries.  You  mustn't  tell !  Sarah 
wouldn't  be  pleased  if  Auntie  was  to  hear  of  it. 
She's  letting  me  stay  up  an  extra  half-hour,  but  she 


THE    KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY.  m 

made  me  promise  not  to  go  beyond  the  garden.  I 
suppose,"  she  added  ruefully,  ^'you  can  go  to  the 
farm  as  often  as  ever  you  like  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"It's  fower  ere  I  get  hame  frae  the  schule;  an' 
then  I  hae  my  lessons  to  get,  an'  odd  jobs  to  dae  for 
my  Mither." 

"  It  can't  be  nice  to  go  to  school  and  get  the 
tawse,"  she  said  meditatively;  "but  then  there  are 
such  lots  of  things  you  can  do !  You  can  walk 
along  the  dykes,  and  wade  in  the  burn,  and  climb  the 
straw-sou,  and  ride  in  the  corn-carts — oh,  Sandy,  it 
must  be  fine  to  be  a  boy !  " 

"Woa,  Snowflake !  "  Sandy  looked  up  shyly, 
breathless  with  the  exertion  of  pushing  the  heavy 
gate.  "  I'm  no  carin'  sae  muckleaboot  thae  things," 
he  said,  with  a  little  air  of  superiority,  "but  I'm  gaun 
to  the  Fair  the  morn  !  " 

It  was  well  that  the  fiery  steed  had  checked  its 
pace,  for  the  lady  nearly  lost  her  balance  in  the  ex- 
citement of  the  moment. 

"  Sandy  !     No  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

He  nodded. 

"  Oh,  Sandy,  you  lucky,  lucky  boy !  I  do  want  so 
dreadfully  to  go  to  the  fair !  I  heard  the  servants 
speaking  about  it  ever  so  long  ago,  and  I  begged  and 
begged  Auntie  to  take  me.  But  she  only  laughed, 
and  said  it  wasn't  a  place  for  little  girls.  Oh,  why 
didn't  God  make  me  a  boy  !  " 

Sandy  racked  his  brains,  as  many  a  wiser  man  has 
done  before  him,  to  find  some  suitable  words  of  con- 
solation, but  in  vain. 


112  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

"Kirsty  —  that's  my  bi^  sister" — he  said  at 
length — "  her  that's  in  the  dairy  the  noo,— is  seekin' 
a  place ;  so  she  maun  gang  to  the  hirin',  an'  my 
Mither  maun  gang  wi'  her;  an'  Faither  says  there'll 
be  room  i'  the  cairt  for  me." 

"  What  a  nice  father  you  must  have,  Sandy  !  Do 
you  think — I  don't  s'pose — there'd  be  room  in  the 
cart  for  me  too  ? " 

Sandy  shuffled  uneasily  from  one  foot  to  the 
other  before  he  ventured  to  look  up. 

"  There  wad  that!  "  he  said  emphatically,  measur- 
ing the  tiny  figure  with  his  kind,  honest  eyes.  "  But 
oor  cairt's  no  the  place  for  the  like  o'  you.  What'd 
yer  Auntie  say,  missy  ?" 

She  tossed  the  curls  out  of  her  eyes.  "Auntie's 
not  here,  so  I  can't  ask  her,"  she  said  loftily. 
"  Never  mind.  I  dessay  your  father  wouldn't  take 
me." 

"I'm  sure  he'd  be  prood,"  cried  poor  Sandy; 
"  but  he'd  no  daur.  He  says  there'll  no  be  a  horse 
in  its  stable  the  morn,  nor  a  cairt  in  its  shed. 
A'body  '11  be  on  the  road,  an'  a'body  'ud  be  speirin' 
at  him  hoo  he  cam'  by  the  braw  wee  leddy.     An'  yer 

Auntie Na,  na,  Missy.     It'll  no  dae.     Ye  maun 

e'en  pit  yer  mind  past  it.  Haud  on  to  the  yett,  an' 
i'll  gie  ye  anither  swee." 

But  the  joys  of  the  "swee"  had  paled  like  a  star 
in  sunshine.  Carefully  climbing  down  from  the  gate, 
the  lady  put  her  knuckles  in  her  eyes,  and  sobbed  as 
if  her  heart  would  break. 

Not  noisily  :  Sandy  could  have  borne  it  better  if 
she  had  "  howled  like  the  wee  lassies  at  the  schule  " : 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


ii3 


but  this  silent  tearful  misery  was  almost  more  than 
he  could  bear.  Being  only  a  man,  he  did  not  re- 
flect that  his  heartbroken  lady  had  not  the  smallest 
desire  to  summon  Sarah  and  the  "gentleman  "  from 
the  raspberry  bed. 

So  he  held  his  cap  in  both  his  hands,  and  moved 
awkwardly  from  one  foot  to  the  other,  repeating 
monotonously  at  intervals,  **  I  wadna  greet  if  I  was 
you.  Missy,  I  wadna  greet."  He  thought  it  very 
brutal  of  Auntie  to  be  so  obdurate,  and — in  the 
bottom  of  his  heart  he  longed  to  run  away ;  but  of 
course,  for  a  true  knight,  such  a  course  was  impos- 
sible. 

At  last  the  lady  dried  her  eyes  with  the  air  of  one 
who  makes  a  mighty  resolution. 

"  I  know  what  I'll  do ! "  she  said.  "  Nobody 
*ll  take  me  to  the  Fair,  so  I'll  go  myself.  /'// 
walk  !  " 

"  Hoot  awa',  Missy  !  "  cried  Sandy,  glancing  un- 
consciously at  her  dainty  shoes.  "  It's  juist  no* 
po'sible.  Ye  cudna  dae't.  It's  sax  mile  guid — sax 
mile  an'  a  bittock  !  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  said  resolutely,  though  for  a 
moment  she  was  staggered.  "  I've  got  a  big  strong 
pair  of  boots  at  home,  and  I'm  sure  I've  walked 
six  miles  often  and  often  with  Nursie.  She  keeps 
me  out  some  days  for  hours  and  hours  till  I'm 
so " 

"  Tired,"  she  was  going  to  say,  but  decided  that 
a  more  advisable  word  might  be  found  under  the 
circumstances.  Failing  to  think  of  one  at  the  mo- 
ment, she  continued  irrelevantly, 


114 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"I'm  just  as  strong  as — strong!  Everybody 
knows  I  can  walk  far  better  than  Auntie !  " 

"  But,  Missy,"  urged  scandalized  Sandy,  "  ye'll  no 
get.  It's  no  to  be  expeckit.  Yer  Auntie's  awa,  an' 
yer  nurse  that's  left  in  chairge  o'  ye " 

"  Nursie  won't  know  anything  about  it,"  she  said 
serenely.  "  Now  that  I'm  a  big  girl,  she  sleeps  in 
the  little  room  off  mine,  and  I'm  awake  hours  and 
hours  before  she  is.  Oh,  Sandy,  how  she  does  snore ! 
I  don't  believe  she'd  hear  me  a  bit  if  I  got  up  early, 
and  I'm  sure  I  could  dress  myself  for  once.  I  can't 
get  out  at  the  frontdoor,"  she  continued  reflectively, 
"  for  the  big  key  is  too  heavy  to  turn  ;  but  the  back- 
door is  unlocked  when  the  dairymaid  gets  up,  and 
I'm  sure  I  could  slip  out  without  anybody  see- 
ing me. 

"  Sandy,  dear !  "  She  drew  him  down  towards 
her  with  a  pretty  caressing  gesture.  "  Let  you'n 
me  go  to  the  fair  together !  I'll  meet  you  here 
quite,  quite  early,  before  anybody  is  up,  and  we'll 
have  such  a  good  time.  Please!  Please!  You'n 
me,  Sandy ! " 

"  But  they'll  miss  ye,  my  wee  lassie,"  he  said 
gently  ;  "  an',  afore  we  was  halfw'y  there,  a'body  'd 
be  seekin'  ye,  an'  there'd  be  an  awfu'  stramash!  " 

"  Not  if  we  started  soon  enough,"  she  answered 
pouting.  "Don't  you  see  ? — I  just  want  a  wee  little 
peep  of  the  music  and  dancing,  and  the  merry-go- 
rounds,  and  the  ladies  in  spangles.  I  don't  care  how 
soon  they  bring  me  away  after  that,  and  I'm  sure  I 
don't  care  if  they  keep  me  on  bread  and  milk  for  a 
week ! " 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


115 


(Brava,  little  lady  ! — 

"  Sound,  sound  the  clarion,  fill  the  fife  ! 
To  all  the  sensual  world  proclaim. 
One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name  ! ") 

"But  of  course,"  she  went  on  cruelly,  "you  v/ant  to 
go  in  the  cart." 

"It's  no  that  I'm  mindin'  sae  muckle  aboot  the 
cairt,"  he  said  honestly,  "but  I  nae  ken  what  I'm  to 
say  to  my  faither.  I'm  loath  to  lee  to  him  at  ony 
time  ;  an'  he'd  be  sweer  to  persuade  that  I  was 
wantin'  the  walk,  for  he  kens  fine  I'm  aye  keen 
about  the  ridin'."  There  was  a  long  pause  before  he 
continued  in  a  very  low  voice, — "  An'  I  was  to  get 
haudin'  the  reins  mysel*." 

Oh,  selfish  little  lady !  Can't  you  retire  grace- 
fully even  now  ? 

"You  could  always  coine  back  in  the  cart,"  she 
said.  "But  never  mind;  I'll  go  by  myself.  You 
won't  tell  ? "  she  demanded  with  sudden  eager- 
ness. 

Sandy  hesitated. 

"  Na,"  he  said  at  last,  "I'll  no  tell;  an' — gin  ye 
gang — ye'll  no  gang  yer  lane  nayther,  Missy.  I'll 
watch  for  ye  here  aboot  sax  the  morn.  It's  no  like 
ye'il  be  wauken ;  but  if  so  be  as  ye're  aye  mindit  to 
gang — we'll  gang  thegither,     Guid  nicht !  " 


Il6  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

II. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  with  the  exception 
of  one  awful  week  when  he  had  his  first  and  only 
experience  of  "  the  toothache,"  Sandy  lay  awake  that 
night  for  half  an  hour  after  he  went  to  bed.  True, 
as  he  had  said,  the  chances  were  all  in  favour  of  the 
lady  oversleeping  herself ;  a  healthy  child,  accus- 
tomed to  breakfast  at  eight,  was  not  likely  to  wake 
very  early  ;  still,  there  was  an  amount  of  uncertainty 
about  the  whole  adventure  which  sent  cold  shivers 
down  the  little  lad's  spine.  However  he  was  big 
and  strong  for  his  years,  and  quite  able  to  take  care 
of  the  bonny  bit  thing  till  the  people  began  to  get 
drunk ;  and,  of  course,  her  friends  would  find  her 
long  before  that.  When  they  did  find  her — the  very 
thought  made  him  brace  his  muscles  for  a  blow — of 
course  there  would  be  an  "awfu'  stramash,"  as  he 
had  told  her,  and  then  he  must  simply  take  the  whip- 
ping and  be  done  with  it. 

He  would  never  be  allowed  to  speak  to  the  little 
lady  again, — that  was  certain.  Everybody  would 
say  he  had  presumed  on  the  favour  "  Auntie  "  had 

shown  him,  and here  Sandy   buried    his  face  in 

the  pillow,  and,  being  a  sensible  boy,  soon  fell 
asleep. 

It  was  no  hard  task  for  him  to  wake  at  sunrise. 
He  was  old,  as  well  as  big,  for  his  years,  and  he  often 
rose  early  to  help  his  mother  with  her  "  chores," — 
"  sairwrocht  "  as  she  was  with  household  cares  and 
farm-labour  combined. 

So  five  o'clock  found  him  out  in  the  road,  with 


THE   KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY. 


117 


his  flaxen  head  under  the  pump.  He  tried  to  be 
very  quiet,  but  before  he  was  fully  equipped  in  his 
"  Sawbath  claes"  his  father  turned  uneasily  in  the 
old  box-bed. 

"  What's  ta'en  ye,  Sandy  ? "  he  asked  sleep- 
ily. "Ye're  sune  up.  It's  no  lang  chappit 
five." 

**Ay,"  said  Sandy.  "I'll  pit  on  the  fire  for  my 
Mither.  She'll  be  thrang  the  day."  (He  blushed 
deeply  at  his  own  wickedness  as  he  said  this.)  "  It's 
a  bonny  day.  I  was  thinkin'  I'd  juist  step  on,  an' 
see  if  the  berries  are  ripe  in  the  den, — I  daursay 
ye'll  catch  me  up." 

His  heart  nearly  stood  still  with  fright ;  but,  for- 
tunately for  him,  his  father  was  too  much  of  an 
epicure  to  rouse  himself  unnecessarily  from  that  de- 
licious state  of  physical  relaxation  which  is  half 
sleep  and  half  waking.  An  hour  or  two  later,  how- 
ever, the  farm-labourer  waxed  eloquent  on  the  sub- 
ject to  his  wife. 

"  There's  nae  pleesurin'  thae  laddies  ava,"  he 
said.  "  It's  nobbut  twa-three  days  sin  naethin'  wad 
please  him  but  drivin'  the  cairt,  an'  here  he  is  awa 
on  his  feet !  " 

"Weel,  there's  no  muckle  hairm  i'  that,"  said  the 
mother,  who  always  kept  a  particularly  warm  corner 
in  her  heart  for  her  "  cannie,  mindfu'  laddie."  "  Nae 
doobt  he's  awa  wi'  some  o'  the  ither  laddies.  He's 
gey  chief  wi'  Ritchie's  An'ra  the  noo,  an'  he  was  to 
foot  it.  I'm  houpin'  he's  ta'en  a  bit  cake  in's  pooch. 
It's  a  gey  lang  road." 

"  Hoot,  they'll  juist  be  playin'  theirsels,  I'se  war- 


jjg  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

ran'.      They'll    no  win    faur — I  wadna  wunner  but 
An'ra's  lippenin'  to  a  lift  frae  hiz." 

Meanwhile  Sandy  had  mounted  the  hill  towards 
the  "  muckle  hoose  "  in  a  state  of  no  small  perturba- 
tion. No  doubt  she  was  sound  asleep,  the  little 
lady — unconscious  alike  of  nurse's  snoring  and  of 
all  the  wild  dreams  of  the  night  before.  Sandy  had 
always  been  a  quiet,  steady  laddie  ;  but  even  he  was 
well  aware  of  the  blighting  effect  of  the  morning 
light  on  plans  that  had  seemed  quite  feasible  at 
bedtime. 

Of  course  she  wouldn't  be  there:  the  very  idea 
was  ridiculous;  and,  as  he  came  to  this  conclusion, 
he  felt  an  odd  little  throb  of  disappointment  in  the 
midst  of  his  mighty  relief. 

Could  it  be  possible  ?  Yes,  there  she  was  ! — limp- 
ing along  with  a  face  as  white  as  a  snowdrop,  cloak 
and  bonnet  all  awry,  and  with  one  tiny  boot  and  sock 
clutched  almost  convulsively  in  her  chubby  hand. 

"  Oh,  Sandy,  dear  Sandy !  "  she  said,  looking  up 
with  two  large  tears  just  ready  to  escape  from  her 
long  eyelashes.  "  I  have  been  so  frightened ! 
Nursie  stopped  snoring,  and  I  was  so  afraid  she'd 
wake  up  !  I  left  my  socks  and  boots  to  the  last, 
because  I  thought  if  there  wasn't  time  I  could  go 
bare-footed  at  first;  but  it  does  hurt  so,  Sandy!  I 
never  thought  a  common  road  could  be  so  prickly. 
And  I  couldn't  find  the  button-hook  anywhere.  Do 
you  think  you'll  be  able  to  fasten  them  without  ? 
I've  got  one  boot  on,  you  see ;  but  it  isn't  but- 
toned." 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


119 


"  That  will  I !  "  said  Sandy  bravely,  concealing 
his  doubts  like  a  man.  "  But  we'll  no  bide  for  that 
the  noo,  Missy.  Juist  pu't  on  onyw'y,  till  we  get  bye 
thae  cottar-hooses." 

So,  hand  in  hand,  they  started  on  their  moment- 
ous journey,  the  knight  and  the  lady.  They  were 
very  silent  at  first,  and  an  occasional  sobbing  sigh 
bore  witness  to  the  terrors  the  lady  had  come 
through  ;  but,  after  all,  Nature  is  a  kind  mother  to 
the  little  ones.  It  was  a  flat,  agricultural  landscape 
through  which  they  passed,  and  you  or  I  might  have 
longed  for  mountain  and  wood  to  break  its  dreary 
monotony  ;  but  the  children  were  more  than  con- 
tent. The  unclouded  sun  overhead,  the  single  row 
of  scraggy  trees  by  the  roadside,  the  rippling  burn, 
and  the  occasional  late  dog-roses,  were  enough  to 
fill  their  tiny  cups,  without  their  knowing  how  or 
why. 

So  they  gathered  flowers,  and  cut  switches,  and 
chased  the  "flying  bluebells,"  as  Rosie  called  the 
azure-tinted  butterflies,  and  enjoyed  their  common 
birthright  to  the  full.  Breakfast,  of  course,  was 
quite  a  serious  function.  Sandy  had  secured  a  bit 
of  oatcake,  and  Rosie  had  saved  a  biscuit  from 
her  supper  the  night  before.  These  dainties  were 
shared  with  the  microscopic  exactness  of  which  only 
children  are  capable,  and  were  followed  by  a  raw 
turnip,  together  with  a  few  unripe  bramble-berries 
from  the  hedge,  and  some  handfuls  of  water  from 
the  burn.  Was  not  that  something  like  a  breakfast! 
And  all  the  time  the  sweet  "  caller  "  air  caressed 
their  heated  brows,  and  swept  away  both  memory 


I20  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

and  forecast ; — so  you  see  for  at  least  one  sunny 
morning  the  knight  and  the  lady  knew  what  it  was 
to  live. 

To  be  sure  no  pleasure  is  wholly  without  alloy, 
and  the  knight  had  a  very  bad  ten  minutes  when  he 
tried  to  button  the  lady's  boots.  It  really  was  the 
very  hardest  bit  of  work  he  had  ever  attempted,  and 
the  beads  of  perspiration  stood  on  his  puckered  fore- 
head before  he  had  accomplished  half  of  his  task. 
Fortunately  the  lady  was  graciously  pleased  to  let 
the  matter  rest  there  ;  and,  when  the  knight  had 
washed  his  bruised  red  finger-tips  in  the  burn,  they 
continued  their  way. 

They  must  have  covered  fully  a  third  of  the 
ground  when  Sandy  sighed  deeply. 

''  I'll  be  back  at  the  schule  the  morn,"  he  said. 

"I've  begun  lessons  too,"  said  she.  "What  do 
they  teach  you  at  school,  Sandy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  juist  a'thing,"  he  replied  with  unconscious 
satire — "readin',  an'  writin',  an'  coontin' " 

"  I've  got  to  subtraction,"  said  my  lady  proudly. 

"  Have  ye  though  ?     Weel  I  niver !  " 

"How  far  have  you  got?"  she  pursued 

"  Weel,"  said  he  unwillingly,  "  I'm  a  laddie,  ye 
ken,  an'  a  muckle  sicht  aulder  than  ye.  Missy.  I'm 
at  compoon'  long  diveesion." 

This  was  crushing ! 

"What's  that  ?  "  asked  the  lady  faintly. 

"  Weel,"  said  Sandy,  scratching  his  head  in  great 
perplexity,  "  diveesion  is  a  wee  thing  like  subtrawc- 
tion,  ye  ken,  juist  as  multiplication  is  maist  the  same 
thing  as  addeetion — only  different,"  he  added  con- 


THE    KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY.  121 

scientiously.  "  But  there,  what  am  I  bletherin' 
aboot  ?  Ye've  no  gotten  the  length  o'  multiplication 
yet." 

"  I  know  all  about  the  multiplication  table,"  said 
my  lady  severely;  "at  least,"  she  added  as  an  after- 
thought, "  I've  got  as  far  as  two  times  nine." 

"Weel  to  be  sure!  It's  juist  wunnerfu' !  An' 
what'll  twa  times  nine  be.  Missy  ?  " 

He  only  wanted  to  help  her  to  show  off,  but  she 
looked  at  him  as  though  he  had  been  convicted  of 
cheating  at  cards. 

"  That's  not  fair !  "  she  said  coldly. 

"  Is't  no  ?  Than  we'll  drap  it.  I  hadna  tellt  ye 
what  '  compoon' '  means." 

••  Tell  me,"  she  said,  still  without  effusion. 

"  Weel,  ye  see,  it's  like  this.  In  simj>/e  diveesion 
— or  subtrawction — ye  juist  pit  doon  the  feegures  on 
yer  sclate, — three,  fower,  sax,  aucht,  or  whativer  it 
may  be.  But  in  compoon  subtrawction — or  diveesion 
— ye  ken  what  it  is  ye're  dealin'  wi',  an'  ye  pit  doon 
the  like  o'  money.  Tak'  fowerpence  frae  saxpence, 
or  whativer  it  is  that's  in  the  buik."  He  was  rather 
proud  of  himself  for  finding  so  simple  an  example. 

"  Oh,  I'd  like  that !  "  cried  the  lady,  forgetting 
her  grievance  in  a  moment.  "  I'll  make  Auntie 
teach  me  compound — what  was  it?— compound  long 
division — to-morrow." 

Sandy  was  sorely  tempted  to  let  this  remark 
pass  unchallenged,  but  he  was  too  conscientious  for 
that. 

"  I  doobt  that'll  no  dae.  Missy,"  he  said,  with  the 
air  of  a  man  who  will  go  to  the  stake  for  his  convic- 


122  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

tions.  "  Ye  maun  e'en  gang  through  wi'  the  simples, 
an'  than  commence  wi'  compoon'  addeetion." 

The  lady  thought  it  was  time  to  change  the  sub- 
ject, and  she  did  so  like  a  true  conversationalist, 
with  no  unseemly  wrench. 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  I've  got  to  spend  at 
the  fair,  Sandy  ? "  she  said.  "  A  shilling  and  six- 
pence penny  !  "  And  she  produced  the  three  coins 
in  triumph. 

*'  My  word  !  " 

"  How  much  have  you  got,  Sandy  ?" 

"Weel,"  said  he,  looking  rather  unhappy,  "  I'm 
no  mindit  to  spen'  ower  muckle,  for  I'm  savin'  up  to 
buy  a  horse." 

"  A  horse  !  " 

"Ay.  My  faither  thinks  I'll  manage  it  by  the 
time  I'm  twinty.  *  Mony  a  pickle  mak's  a  mickle," 
he  says.  I've  sax  poun'  the  noo,  an'  maybe  a  wee 
thing  mair.  It's  maistly  gey  slaw  wark  coontin'  the 
bawbees,  but  I  got  a  graun'  lift  when  my  graunfaith- 
er  deed.     He  left  me  five  pun'." 

"  Oh,  Sandy,  how  splendid ! "  cried  the  lady, 
moved  to  genuine  enthusiasm.  "  A  real  big  horse, 
instead  of  the  stupid  old  gate.  Will  he  be  like  Snow- 
flake?" 

"  Ay,"  said  the  boy,  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur, 
such  as  his  father  might  have  assumed  on  tasting  a 
sample  of  wheat, — "no  unlike  Snowflake,  but  no  sae 
langnebbit,  an'  a  wee  thing  braider  i'  the  bench." 

"And  will  you  give  me  a  ride,  Sandy,  as  you  did 
on  the  gate  last  night  ?  You  called  the  gate  Snow- 
flake,  you  know." 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


123 


The  boy's  face  fell.  They  had  become  such  ex- 
cellent friends  in  the  last  hour. 

"Ye  maunna  forget,  Missy,"  he  said,  "I'm  no  to 
get  it  ere  I'm  twinty,  an'  I  doobt  ye'll  no  be  carin' 
muckle  aboot  a  ride  than  !" 

There  was  something  irresistible  in  this  argument, 
and  the  lady's  face  fell  too. 

"But,  Sandy,"  she  said  shyly,  "perhaps  by 
the  time  you're  twenty,  you'll  be — a  gentle- 
man !  " 

"  Na,  na,"  he  said  with  honest  Scotch  pride,  "  I'm 
no  wantin'  to  be  a  gentleman.  I'd  suner  be  like  my 
Faither,  an'  mak'  the  finest  furrow  an'  the  straucht- 
est  stack  i'  the  hail  countra-side !  " 

Alas,  for  the  cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand ! 
There  could  be  no  doubt  at  all  that  a  shadow  had 
fallen  upon  the  tiny  "  twosome,"  and  now  the  shadow 
began  to  darken. 

"D'ye  no  hear  wheels?"  said  Sandy  suddenly, 
stopping  short,  and  putting  down  his  ear  to  listen. 
"  Ay,  it's  a  gig  !  Gang  a  wee  thing  forrit.  Missy,  in 
front  o'  me,  an'  I  daursay  they'll  no  tak'  muckle  heed 
o'  ye.  Carry  this  bit  switch  ower  yer  shouther,  an' 
pu'  yer  bannet  weel  forrit.  Ye're  in  an  awfu'  mess 
o'  dust — that's  ae  guid  thing — an'  no  vera  like 
yersel'." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  gig  rattled  past,  and,  for- 
tunately, its  occupants  took  no  apparent  notice  of 
the  two  little  travellers. 

"  It's  a  man  an'  a  wife,"  said  Sandy  presently, 
"but  I  dinna  ken  wha.  I  dauredna  lift  my  een  till 
they  were  bye.  Nae  doobt  the  gig's  been  loaned 
9 


124 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


them,  an'  it's  ill  kennin'  folk  frae  the  luik  o'  their 
backs  on  Fair  day  !  " 

"  Wha's  yon  ? "  remarked  the  driver  of  the  gig  to 
his  wife,  when  they  were  past. 

"  I'm  no  that  sure.  Tbe  laddie's  like  Tamson's 
Sandy,  but  I  nae  ken  wha  the  wee  lassie  can  be. 
She  disna  favour  the  Tamsons  ava." 

The  children  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  but  before 
long  a  spring-cart  came  up,  and  this  time  a  woman 
leaned  over  to  speak. 

**  Wha's  yon  ye've  gotten  wi'  ye,  Sandy  ?  "  quoth 
she. 

"  A  lassie,"  said  cautious  Sandy. 

"  I  see  fine  it's  a  lassie,  but  what'n  a  lassie  ?  " 

Then  poor  Sandy, -driven  to  desperation,  was 
guilty  of  the  one  piece  of  unjustifiable  rudeness  of 
which  I  ever  heard  him  accused — such  trite  rude- 
ness, too,  unrelieved  by  a  single  spark  of  originality. 

"Ask  yer  granny!  "  he  said,  with  as  bold  an  air 
as  he  could  muster. 

A  shout  of  laughter  from  the  cart  greeted  this 
retort.  Humour  of  the  crudest  type  is  allowed  to 
pass  muster  on  Fair  day. 

But  the  baffled  questioner  did  not  join  in  the 
laugh. 

"  My  word  !  "  she  exclaimed  angrily.  "  He's  no 
blate !  An'  they  say  the  Tamsons'  Sandy  is  that 
canny  an'  fair-spoken.     I  niver !  " 

"  Hoot,  wumman,  it's  the  Fair !  "  said  her  hus- 
band soothingly,  and  so  the  matter  dropped. 

Thus  danger  Number  Two  passed  by,  but  al- 
though the  little  lady  had  held  up  gallantly  hitherto, 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


125 


there  could  be  no  doubt  that  her  strength  was  be- 
ginning to  flag.  She  denied  vehemently  that  she 
was  tired,  and  she  still  talked  gaily  of  merry-go- 
rounds  and  "  ladies  with  gold  spanglies  "  ;  but,  as 
Sandy  looked  at  her  drooping  dusty  little  figure, 
he  began  to  feel  quite  sure  of  what  he  had  feared 
all  along — that  she  would  never  reach  the  Fair 
at  all. 

He  was  still  looking  at  her,  with  a  very  pitiful 
feeling  in  his  honest  heart,  when  a  great  cloud  of 
dust  came  up  behind  them,  and,  when  it  settled — 
behold  the  figures  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomson  and 
the  lady's  nurse  ! — not  to  speak  of  poor  old  Snow- 
flake,  patiently  wondering  why  he  had  been  lashed 
into  such  an  unconscionable  lather. 

At  first  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  anything 
in  the  violent  altercation  that  ensued ;  but  at  last 
the  nurse  succeeded  in  dismounting  from  the  cart, 
and — as  is  the  way  with  nurses  while  an  explana- 
tion is  pending — shook  her  little  charge  violently 
by  the  shoulder. 

"  I  wunner  at  ye  !  "  cried  poor  Sandy  with  trem- 
bling lips.  "  It  wasna  her  blame — a  wee  bit  thing 
like  yon !  " 

"An'  ye're  no  feared  to  staun'  there  an' say  it 
was  your  blame ! "  shouted  Sandy's  father,  white 
with  rage,  yet  amazed,  in  the  midst  of  his  indigna- 
tion, that  a  lad  who  had  never  needed  a  thrashing 
in  his  life  should  have  earned  one  so  richly  now. 
"  There'll  no  be  ony  Fair  for  you,  ma  man.  Ye'll 
gang  straucht  hame,  an'  change  yer  claes,  an'  when 
I  come  hame  the  mcht—I'll pay  ye  !  " 


126  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

This  was  indeed  an  appalling  threat ;  for  although 
Bill  Thomson  was  a  decent,  well-doing,  kindly  man 
in  the  main,  it  was  not  to  be  expected  of  human 
nature  that  the  night  after  the  P'air  should  find 
him  in  a  peculiarly  conciliatory  or  reasonable  frame 
of  mind. 

Sandy  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet  of  paper  ;  but, 
selfish  as  my  little  lady  was,  this  was  more  than  she 
could  bear. 

She  shook  off  her  nurse's  hold  in  a  moment, 
and,  darting  up  with  crimson  face  and  clenched 
fists  to  the  huge,  passionate  man,  she  stamped  her 
tiny  foot  on  the  dusty  road. 

"  It's  not  his  blame  !  "  she  shouted,  quivering 
with  anger,  and  unconsciously  making  use  of  their 
own  expression.  "  It's  not  his  blame,  and  you 
know  it !  It's  viy  blame.  He  wanted  to  drive 
Snowflake.  He  didn't  want  to  bring  me  a  bit; 
and  I  made  him,  I  made  him,  I  made  him !  I  said 
I'd  come  alone,  so  he  had  to  take  care  of  me. 
And — and — and  I  made  him  promise  not  to  tell — 
so  there  !  If  you  whip  him,  or  send  him  home,  or 
say  a  single  word  to  him,  I'll  " — she  gasped  literally 
for  breath — "  I'll  kill  you  !  " 

And,  having  thus  delivered  herself  of  all  the 
points  in  the  evidence,  having  even  got  safely 
through  a  most  impressive  peroration,  counsel  for 
the  defence  broke  down  in  a  torrent  of  tears. 

*'  Is  that  true,  Sandy  ?  "  said  his  mother,  putting 
her  arm  round  the  trembling  boy. 

Now  Sandy  had  never  lied  to  his  mother  in  his 
life ;  and  being,  as  I  told  you,  only  a  common  Scotch 


THE    KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY. 


127 


laddie,  and  no  gallant  French  gentleman — being, 
moreover,  much  too  young  and  inexperienced  for  a 
heavy  role  like  that  of  knight  in  so  trying  a  drama, 
— he  hid  his  face  in  his  mother's  shawl,  and  sobbed 
out  a  most  unchivalrous  "  Ay  !  " 

"Just  to  think,"  cried  Nurse,  still  white  with 
fright,  "  o'  that  hussy,  Sarah,  never  lettin'  on  till 
we  missed  her  that  the  bairns  was  together  last 
night.     I'll  gie  her  a  hearin'  once  I  get  hame !  " 

"Weel,"  said  Sandy's  mother  cautiously,  "I've 
nae  doot  ava  that  Sarah's  gotten  a  fricht — as  weel's 
yerseV  !  " 

But  the  hint  was  lost  upon  Nurse. 

"  I'm  that  pleased,"  she  said,  "  that  I  didna  tele- 
graph to  the  missis.  There's  no  need  now  for  her 
to  ken  onything  aboot  it." 

"  Hoot,  wumman  !  "  said  Mrs.  Thomson.  "  Hon- 
esty's aye  the  best  policy.  Tak'  my  advice,  an' 
mak'  a  clean  breist  o't  the  meenit  she  pits  her 
fit  ower  the  door.  She'll  be  wantin'  a  word  wi' 
wersels  as  weel,  I'm  thinking!" 

Nurse  had  come  on  with'  the  Thomsons  to  save 
time,  but  had  left  word  that  the  governess  cart  was 
to  follow  as  soon  as  possible,  so  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty about  getting  home.  And  so  it  was  settled, 
with  more  immediate  justice  than  we  are  accustomed 
to  meet  with  in  human  affairs,  that  Sandy  should  go 
on  to  the  Fair,  as  originally  arranged,  and  that  the 
lady  should  be  conducted  ignominiously  home  by 
her  nurse. 

I  think  I  need  scarcely  inform  the  reader  who 
has  followed  her  fortunes  thus  far,  that,  under  these 


128  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

trying  circumstances,  she  conducted  herself  with  due 
dignity,  as  a  heroine  should,  flatly  declining  to  ex- 
cuse or  incriminate  herself  in  any  way  till  Auntie 
should  arrive. 


III. 

The  poor  little  lady  had  sobbed  herself  to  sleep 
that  night,  and  Auntie  and  I  were  still  sitting  over 
the  drawing-room  fire,  congratulating  ourselves  and 
thanking  Heaven  that  the  adventure  had  ended 
no  worse.  The  fire  had  burned  low,  and  we  were 
talking  of  going  to  bed,  when  the  door  burst  open, 
and  our  motherly  old  cook  came  in  with  a  white, 
scared  face. 

"  If  you  please'm,"  she  said,  "  they  say  wee 
Sandy  at  the  cottar-hooses  is  deein',  an'  he's  awfu' 
keen  to  see  Miss  Rosie." 

'■^ Dying!"  exclaimed  Auntie.  "What  do  you 
mean  ?     He  was  well  enough  this  morning." 

"  Ay,  but  he'd  an  awfu'  accident  at  the  Fair,  He 
was  on  ane  o'  thae  muckle  swees,  leanin'  atower  to 
speak  to  the  laddies  below, — an'  he  fell.  He  was 
kin'  o'  stunned  like  at  the  first,  but  he's  himsel'  the 
noo  ;  only — they  say — the  doctor's  feared  his  neck's 
broke." 

"  And  does  the  doctor  think  there  is  any  immedi- 
ate danger?  " 

"Ay.  He  niver  thocht  the  laddie'd  live  to  get 
here,  but  the  Mither,  puir  body,  couldna  rest  till  she 
got  him  hame;  so  they  brocht  him  on  a  shutter. 
The  doctor  says  it's  no  a  case  in  which  he'd  like  to 


THE   KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY.  129 

be  unco  sure ;  but  he's  no  expeckin'  him — to  bide 
wi's — till  the  morn." 

"Then  of  course  Rosie  must  go  at  once,"  said 
Auntie  hastily.  "  Tell  Nurse  to  put  on  her  warm 
dressing-gown,  and  wrap  her  up  in  a  blanket. — No, 
stay.  I'll  go  myself.  You'll  come  with  us?"  she 
said,  turning  to  me. 

Poor  Rosie  was  sadly  scared  and  disconcerted 
at  being  wakened  out  of  her  first  sleep.  I  doubt 
whether  such  a  thing  had  ever  happened  to  her  in  all 
her  baby  life  before. 

It  was  the  grieve  who  had  brought  the  news, 
and  now,  as  he  lighted  us  down  the  dark  road. 
Auntie  tried  to  prepare  her  little  niece  for  what  she 
was  to  see.  This  was  no  easy  task,  for,  beyond  a 
general  idea,  picked  up  mainly  from  the  servants, 
that  God  was  responsible  for  most  things,  and  might, 
or  might  not,  be  inclined  to  listen  to  human  prayers, 
— the  child  had  received  no  religious  training  at  all ; 
and  the  eclectic  knowledge  of  Scripture,  witnessed 
by  her  familiarity  with  the  story  of  Jonah,  had  by 
no  means  been  calculated  to  fan  the  flame  of  devo- 
tion. For  Auntie  was  one  of  those  people  who  be- 
lieve that  only  a  mature  intelligence  should  grapple 
with  what  she  called  "  the  problems  of  religion." 

The  cottage  consisted  of  a  but  and  a  ben,  and  we 
"  went  ben  "  at  once,  while  the  grieve  prepared  the 
family  for  our  visit.  We  drew  back  in  a  moment 
when  we  found' the  doctor  in  the  sitting-room;  but 
the  house  was  so  small  that  it  was  impossible  not  to 
hear  every  word  he  said, — for  he  had  brought  with 
him  his  nephew,  fresh  from  college. 


I30 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  suspect  a  cervical 
fracture,  uncle,"  the  young  man  was  saying.  "There 
is  no  paralysis,  and  his  breathing  is  practically  all 
right." 

*'  That's  true,  lad,"  said  our  dear  old  ^sculapius, 
whom  a  happy  chance  had  brought  to  the  spot  a  few 
minutes  after  the  accident.  "  But  I  got  a  creak 
once  that  I  didn't  like,  and  I'm  sure  neither  you  nor 
me  is  wanting  to  get  it  again.  Besides  it's  not  for 
nothing  that  he's  holding  his  head  so  stiff.  I've  got 
it  now  between  sandbags,  and  I've  told  him  to  keep 
it  steady  (though  that  wouldn't  have  been  much  use 
if  Nature  hadn't  been  beforehand  with  me,  as  she 
mostly  is).  But  we  must  make  some  better  arrange- 
ment for  the  night,  in  case  he  falls  asleep,  puir  lad- 
die !  I've  told  his  mother  it  may  come  any  minute, 
and — if  it  comes — it's  like  to  be  over  before  she 
knows." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Thomson  entered  the  tiny 
passage  in  which  we  stood,  and,  after  a  vain  con- 
vulsive effort  to  speak,  beckoned  to  us  to  follow  her. 
It  is  little  to  say  that  none  of  us  will  ever  forget  the 
sight  that  met  our  eyes  as  we  entered  the  kitchen. 

By  the  smouldering  embers  of  the  fire  sat  the 
father,  ill  at  ease  in  the  unaccustomed  "  braws " 
donned  for  the  fair,  his  whole  attitude  one  of  the 
uttermost  dejection.  The  light  of  a  single  tallow 
candle  fell  on  the  bed  where  the  little  patient  was 
lying,  strangely  straight  and  stiff,  but  otherwise  not 
half  so  changed  as  we  had  expected  to  find  him.  On 
one  side  his  Mother  stood  by  the  head  of  the  bed, 
looking  at  him— Ah,  how  she  did  look  !     Surely  her 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


i3I 


very  soul  was  flowing  into  his ! — and  on  the  other 
side  sat  the  young  minister  who  had  lately  come  to 
the  parish,  with  one  hand  stretched  out  towards  the 
boy,  the  other  grasping  a  well-worn  Bible. 

A  curious  fit  of  shyness  seemed  to  come  over  the 
little  lad  as  we  entered  the  room.  Unable  to  turn 
away  his  head,  he  laid  one  hand  across  his  eyes, 
while  with  the  other  he  groped  stiffly  about  the 
counterpane. 

"I  brocht  ye  a  fairin',  Missy,"  he  said  timidly. 
"  Whaur  is't,  Mither  ?  " 

Half-blind  with  weeping,  the  poor  woman  put 
something  into  his  hand,  and  he  held  it  out  to  the 
little  lady  whom  Auntie  had  placed  on  the  foot  of 
the  bed.  Surely  half  the  pathos  of  death  lies  in  the 
weird  touches  of  comedy  that  cross  his  path  to  the 
very  last.  Solemnly  Rosie  held  out  her  hand,  and 
solemnly  she  took  possession  of  a  gingerbread  man, 
and  a  bit  of  the  crude  red  confection  which  is  a 
staple  commodity  at  the  Fair. 

"  It's  naethin'  by-ordinar,"  he  said  humbly,  re- 
covering from  his  shyness,  now  that  the  longed-for 
ordeal  was  over.  "No  what  I  wad  ha'  likit ;  but 
they  wadna  let  me  bide " 

"  Na,"  said  his  mother.  "It  was  efter  they  had 
him  on  the  shutter,  and   he'd  begooed  to  come  to 

hissel';  but  the  doctor  had  tellt  me Naethin' 

wad  please  him  but  he  maun  get  a  fairin'  for  Missy. 
I'm  sure  I  juist  gruppit  onythin'  that  cam'  to  my 
han'.  I  canna  even  richtly  ca'  to  mind  that  I  p'yed 
for't.  It  is  a  puir  bit  thing  !  Ye  maun  e'en  ex- 
cuse it." 


132 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"You  dear  little  boy,"  said  Auntie,  kneeling  down 
by  the  bed,  and  stroking  the  rough  brown  hand. 
"  You  shouldn't  have  spent  your  money  on  Rosie. 
She  has  lots  of  toys.     When  you  get  well " 

Here  she  broke  down ;  but  now  Rosie,  who  had 
been  sitting  half  dazed,  suddenly  found  voice, — 

"And  he  didn't  mean  to  spend  his  pennies, 
Auntie.     He's  saving  up  to  buy  a  horse  !  " 

"  Na,  na,"  said  the  boy  hastily.  "  Hae  they  no 
tellt  ye  ?  I'm  no  gaun  to  get  better.  Missy.  The 
meenister  says,"  he  added,  with  a  shy  smile,  "  that  he 
wadna  wunner  an  they  gied  me  a  horse  when  I  get 
there.  He's  been  readin'  me  an  awfu'  bonny  scripter 
aboot  the  white  horses.  I'm  no  sae  feared  o' 
Heaven,  an  it's  like  yon," 

For  just  one  moment  the  minister  looked  rather 
shamefacedly  at  Auntie.  She  was  a  beautiful  woman, 
and  he  was  very  young,  and  they  had  had  some 
wondrous  discussions  of  late ;  but  criticism  w^as 
very  far  from  Auntie's  eyes  just  then. 

"  I  am  sure  you  deserve  a  horse  if  you  want  one," 
she  said,  "you  little  hero !  " 

He  pointed  to  the  lady  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  She  was  pluckier  than  me  the  day,"  he  said 
simply,     "I've  been  beat  by  a  lassie." 

"  That  you  haven't,  darling  !  Rosie  has  told  me 
all  about  it,  and  I'm  sure  she  is  as  sorry  as  I  am  for 
the  trouble  she  got  you  into.  If  Rosie  grows  up  to 
be  half  as  brave  and  good  as  you  are " 

Here  Auntie  broke  down  completely,  and  a 
troubled  look  came  over  the  little  face. 

"  I  was  aye  mindit  to  be  guid  to  my  Mither  when 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


133 


I  was  big.  She's  been  sair  owerwrocht,  puir  Mither  ! 
But  I'm  thinkin'  God  maun  ken  fine  that  He  hasna 
gied  me  the  chaunce." 

The  doctor  had  entered  the  room,  but  I  don't 
think  there  was  one  of  us  who  could  have  found 
speech  to  answer  this,  when  Rosie's  worldly  little 
voice  broke  in  upon  the  silence. 

"  But  you  must  get  well,  Sandy ;  indeed  you 
must !  I  like  you  better  than  all  the  other  boys — 
Ronald  and  Harold  and  Hugh.  They're  so  rough 
and  selfish,  and  they  won't  have  girls  in  their  games. 
If  you'll  only  get  well,  Sandy — when  you're  big — 
I'll — I'll  marry  you,  even  if  you're  not  a  gentle- 
man !  " 

Did  we  laugh  or  cry  ?  Both  I  think  ;  but  the 
little  knight  on  the  borderland  took  the  situation 
very  seriously. 

**  Ye're  unco  guid,  I'm  sure,  Missy,"  he  said 
simply;  "but  ye're  no  for  the  like  o'  me.  It's  no 
that  I  couldna  wark  for  ye.  I  could  that !  But 
ye'd  aye  need  a  wumman  body  to  dae  for  ye,  and 
I'd  no  like  to  see  ye  wantin'  the  bonny  bit  things 
ye've  been  used  to.  Maybe,"  he  went  on,  changing 
the  subject  with  delicate  tact,  "  the  meenister  wad 
read  us  yon  bonny  chapter  again." 

And  without  opening  his  Bible  the  minister  be- 
gan in  a  deep  sympathetic  voice, — 

"  '  And  I  saw  heaven  opened,  and  behold  a  white 
horse,  and  he  that  sat  upon  him  was  called  Faithful 
and  True,  and  in  righteousness  he  doth  judge  and 
make  war.  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  on 
his  head  were  many  crowns ;    and  he  had  a  name 


134 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


written,  that  no  man  knew  but  he  himself.  And  he 
was  clothed  with  a  vesture  dipped  in  blood  ;  and  his 
name  is  called  the  Word  of  God.  And  the  armies 
which  were  in  heaven  followed  him  upon  white  horses, 
clothed  in  fine  linen,  white  and  clean.'  " 

Did  he  think  the  next  words  were  too  stern  for 
so  young  a  disciple  ?  I  do  not  know,  but  after 
a  moment's  silence,  he  fell  back  upon  the  same 
allegory,  as  it  issued  from  the  lips  of  the  proph- 
et, in  whose  mighty  heart  and  brain  it  first  took 
form. 

"  *  And  he  said,  Surely  they  are  my  people,  children 
that  will  not  lie '  " 

He  paused  again  for  a  moment,  and  the  poor 
mother  broke  in  eagerly,  "  That's  him,  sir,  that's 
Sandy  !  It's  as  if  it  was  wrote  for  him  !  "  And  then 
the  minister  went  on, 

"  ' so  he  was  their  Saviour.  In  all  their  afflic- 
tion he  was  afflicted,  and  the  angel  of  his  presence 
saved  them  :  in  his  love  and  in  his  pity  he  redeemed 
them  :  and  he  bare  them,  and  carried  them — all  the 
days.' " 

The  little  lady  listened  with  rapt  attention,  strain- 
ing her  ears  to  catch  every  word  ;  and  who  knows 
what  vague,  grand  image  formed  in  her  baby  mind  ? 
As  for  the  little  knight,  he  forgot  his  injury,  and  with 
a  hasty,  unconscious  effort,  turned  to  speak  to  the 
minister.  In  a  moment  he  remembered,  but  it  was 
too  late.  Even  as  he  fell  back,  before  he  had  time 
to  guess  that  the  summons  had  come,  a  change  came 
over  his  brave  little  face.  .  .  . 

I   think   his  young  visitor    scarcely  noticed  the 


THE  KNIGHT  AND  THE  LADY. 


135 


change,  for  the  doctor  hastily  signed  to  us  to  leave 
the  room,  and  we  went. 

Shivering  with  excitement  we  made  our  way  up 
the  dark  avenue  to  the  house. 

"  Auntie,"  whispered  the  heathen  little  lady,  forc- 
ing her  head  out  of  the  blanket  and  gazing  all 
around,  like  a  chicken  from  under  its  mother's  wing, 
"  has  the  man  on  the  white  horse  come  to  fetch 
him  ?  " 

Poor  Auntie  !  It  would  have  taken  a  wondrously 
pure  Agnosticism  to  stand  the  blast  of  a  furnace  like 
that. 

"  I  believe  he  has,  darling,"  she  said,  clasping  her 
treasure  more  tightly.  "  *  He  shall  gather  the  lambs 
with  his  arm,  and  carry  them  in  his  bosom  '  !  " 

An  hour  later,  when  the  little  lady  was  sound 
asleep  once  more.  Auntie  stopped  on  the  stair,  candle 
in  hand  ;  and  I  saw  she  had  been  seized  by  one  of 
those  odd  relapses  into  cynicism,  with  which  her 
friends  were  so  familiar. 

"  I  always  knew  Rosie  was  a  witch,"  she  said 
lightly,  "but  the  amount  of  discrimination  she  has 
shown  in  the  last  thirty  hours " 

Here  the  cynicism  broke  down,  and  the  cynic 
made  good  her  retreat. 


IV. 

It  was  New  Year's  Day,  and  a  party  of  bright 
young  girls  were  gathered  in  Rosie's  pretty  boudoir 
waiting  for  afternoon  tea. 

"  Leap  Year,"  said  one  of  them,  taking  down  a 


136 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


calendar  from  the  mantelpiece.  "  Now's  your  chance, 
all  of  you  !  "  And  they  jested  as  young  girls  will,  to 
whom  life  (in  the  orthodox  social  sense)  is  a  "  joke 
that's  just  begun," 

"  I  wonder,"  said  a  dreamy  voice,  "whether  any 
woman  ever  did  avail  herself  of  her  privilege  ? " 

"  Of  course  !  "  said  Rosie  calmly. 

A  shout  of  indignation  and  surprise  greeted  this 
speech,  for  Rosie  was  far  from  being  in  the  habit  of 
giving  away  her  own  sex. 

"And,  to  hear  her  talk,  you  would  think  she 
knew  something  about  it !  "  laughed  one. 

"  I  know  this  much  about  it, — that  I  have  done  it 
myself ! " 

"  You  ! " 

"  Proposed  to  a  man  !  " 

"Your  first  season,  and  the  ball  at  your  feet !  " 

"  Nonsense!  " 

"  Nevertheless  it  is  true,"  said  Rosie  quietly.  "  I 
was  six  years  old,  and  he  was  nine.  He  was  dying, 
and  I  said,  if  he  would  get  well,  I'd  marry  him.  I 
would  have  done  it  too,"  she  went  on,  looking  round 
her  royally,  "  if  he  would  have  had  me, — though  he 
was  a  farm-labourer's  son  !  His  mother  is  one  of  my 
best  friends  to  this  day.     I  was  a  spoilt  ill-mannered 

little  minx  ;  and  he I  wish  some  of  our  fine 

gentlemen  could  learn  manners  from  him  !  No  well- 
worn  tricks ;  none  of  the  *  little  way '  which  we 
women  are  supposed  to  be  quite  unable  to  resist ;  no 
surface  veneer; — only  real  chivalry  and  inborn  fine 
breeding  as  deep  as  his  brave  little  heart !  " 

So  then  of  course  they  made  her  tell  the  story,  as 


THE   KNIGHT   AND   THE   LADY. 


137 


I  have  tried  to  tell  it  to  you.  There  was  dead  silence 
when  she  finished.  She  had  risen  towards  the  end, 
and  had  walked  over  to  the  window;  but  she  was 
Auntie's  own  child,  and  now  she  turned,  and  brought 
us  back  with  a  jar  to 

"  The  C  Major  of  this  life." 

"  Oddly  enough,"  she  said,  "  we  were  at  Duncairn 
last  summer.  The  Fair  came  round  while  we  were 
there;  and  oh,  the  noise  and  the  squalor  and  the 
tawdriness!  There  was  no  escaping  it.  It  seemed 
to  blast  the  country  for  miles  around.  Sic  transit 
gloria  mundi  !  " 

"Ay — mundi!"  I  answered  thoughtfully.  "But 
it  seems  to  me  that  Sandy's  memory  is  wondrous 
green." 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 

But  thou  and  I  are  one  in  kind, 

As  moulded  like  in  nature's  mint  ; 

And  hill  and  wood  and  field  did  print 
The  same  sweet  forms  in  either  mind.  .  ,  . 

And  sa  my  wealth  resembles  thine  ; 
But  he  was  rich  where  I  was  poor, 
And  he  supplied  my  wants  the  more 

As  his  unlikeness  fitted  mine. — Tennyson. 


The  docks  have  a  poetry  of  their  own  when  im- 
partial night  throws  her  uniform  dark  domino  over 
fair  and  foul  alike  when  the  red  and  green  lights  fall 
in  spangles  on  the  water,  and  the  flare  of  torch,  or 
perhaps  the  gleam  of  moonlight,  makes  an  impres- 
sionist picture  out  of  every  commonplace  group. 
The  docks  at  night  would  be  a  not  unfitting  scene 
for  the  opening  chapter  of  a  love-tale. 

But  this  is  no  love-tale  that  I  am  about  to  tell ; 
it  is  the  simple  story  of  a  brief  Bohemian  friendship  ; 
and  it  begins — fittingly  enough,  perhaps — not  in 
moonlight  and  glamour,  but  in  the  prosaic,  shadow- 
less glare  of  an  unclouded  September  noon. 

The  good  ship  Puffin  was  getting  up  steam,  and 

138 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


139 


its  belching  funnel  radiated  a  sickening  intolerable 
heat:  the  well-scoured  planks  glowed  in  the  sun,  the 
paint  and  the  metal  fittings  scorched  the  unwary 
hand  like  redhot  iron,  and  the  creak  and  rattle  of  the 
crane  added  a  final  note  of  unrest  to  the  general 
glare  and  discord. 

"  Do  come  under  my  sunshade,  Ned !  "  said  a  tall 
young  girl.     "This  heat  is  perfectly  killing." 

Her  companion — a  man  of  perhaps  five  and  thirty 
— raised  a  delicate,  sunburnt  hand  to  put  the  prof- 
fered shelter  aside.  He  was  standing  on  deck  with 
one  long  leg  thrown  lazily  over  the  arm  of  a  wooden 
seat. 

"  Heat  suits  me,"  he  said,  with  a  touch  of  irrita- 
tion in  his  voice ;  "  and,  if  it  didn't,  it  would  be  almost 
worth  while  being  grilled  to  gather  first  impressions 
of  one's  fellow-passengers.  It's  for  all  the  world 
like  putting  into  a  lottery." 

She  let  the  dainty,  lace-frilled  parasol  fall  on  her 
shoulder,  and  looked  round  with  a  low  laugh. 

"  Mainly  blanks  this  time,  I  fear !  "  ' 

"Perhaps.     You  are  young  and  hard  to  please; 

and  your  rdle  in  life  does  not  happen  to  be  merely 

that  of  spectator.     But  there's  a  certain  interest  in 

the  thing  itself  apart  from  the  chance  of  a  prize.    Do 

you  notice  the  difference  of  opinion  that  seems  to 

exist  as  to  our  destination  ?     These  business  men 

come  on   board  with   as  little  ado  as  if  they  were 

stepping   into   a   city    omnibus ;    and  to    see   those 

weeping  schoolgirls,  one  would  think  we  were  bound 

for "     He  paused. 

"  The  Antipodes  ?" 
10 


140 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"Ay.  Or  that  our  jovial  captain  was  old  Charon 
himself."  He  paused  again,  and  smiled  rather 
grimly.  "Who  knows?  Perhaps  he  is — for  some 
of  us ! " 

**Ned!"  The  girl  frowned  impatiently,  and 
hastened  to  change  the  subject. 

"  Your  '  schoolgirls  '  are  pretty  mature,"  she  said. 
"You  ought  to  have  a  chaperon.  It  is  astonishing 
how  every  small  shopkeeper  nowadays  must  needs 
send  his  daughter  to  Germany  to  study  music." 

"  Why  not  ?     Where  is  Edith  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Tipping  the  steward  to  see  that 
you  don't  fall  overboard,  I  should  think." 

"  She  is  quite  capable  of  it.  Tell  her  it  is  high 
time  you  were  going  on  shore.  Think  what  it  would 
be  for  me  to  be  saddled  with  both  of  you,  just  as  I 
am  looking  forward  to  a  little  peace !  " 

She  smiled  with  the  quiet  assurance  of  a  girl  who 
knows  her  own  value.  "  Don't  be  uneasy.  We  have 
no  desire  to  miss  the  tournament.  And  here  comes 
Edith  at  last  to  set  your  mind  at  rest.  Do  I  look  as 
sweet  and  cool  and  willowy  as  that  ?  I  often  think, 
Ned,  how  grateful  you  must  feel  for  your  sisters — 
when  you  look  at  other  people's  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  do,"  he  said  quietly.  "  The  thought  of 
their  back  hair  brightens  my  darkest  hours. — Good 
Lord ! " 

A  cab  had  just  driven  up,  and  from  it  was  alight- 
ing a  young  girl.  She  seemed  to  be  about  eighteen, 
though  the  short,  scrimp  gown  of  heavy  plum- 
coloured  stuff  scarcely  bespoke  so  mature  an  age. 
Her  brow  was  moist,  her  cheeks  crimson  with  heat ; 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


141 


and  an  old-fashioned  jacket  was  thrown  open,  reveal- 
ing an  uncompromising  row  of  bright  metal  buttons. 

"Oh,  the  pathos  of  her  !  "  murmured  Edith  from 
out  a  cool  cloud  of  lace  and  cambric. 

But  the  new  arrival,  fortunately  for  herself,  was 
as  yet  wholly  unaware  of  her  own  pathos.  All  she 
knew  was  that  she  meant  to  catch  that  steamer,  and 
she  was  too  inexperienced  a  traveller  to  feel  sure 
even  now  that  she  was  safe.  So,  with  dogged  deter- 
mination, unconscious  of  the  undisguised  amusement 
in  the  eyes  of  the  lookers-on,  she  took  a  basket,  a 
tin  hat-box,  and  a  bundle  of  wraps  in  one  hand; 
and  carefully  grasping  a  violin-case  in  the  other,  she 
proceeded  to  thread  her  perilous  way  across  the 
narrow  gangway. 

"  Go  it.  Sturdy  !  "  said  Ned  under  his  breath,  and 
he  went  forward,  with  such  haste  as  his  languid 
nature  allowed,  to  offer  his  help. 

But  the  well-meant  act  only  awakened  her  to  a 
tardy,  painful  self-consciousness. 

"Thank  you ;  I  can  manage,"  she  said  stiffly, 
though  with  a  catch  of  fatigue  in  her  voice ;  and,  by 
dint  of  a  mighty  effort,  she  deposited  her  traps  at 
the  top  of  the  companion-way. 

The  young  man  returned  to  his  sisters  with  a 
comical  light  in  his  blue  eyes. 

"  That  is  what  you  call  the  snub  direct,"  he  said. 

"  Minx  !  "  said  Sybil  softly. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  corrected  Edith.  "  She  is  accus- 
tomed to  help  herself,  that's  all.  Poor  little  soul ! 
I  wish  she  wasn't  quite  so  hot." 

"  So   do   I."     Ned   took  off   his  straw  hat,  and 


142 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


passed  his  hand  through  his  straight  brown  hair, 
*'  She  has  raised  the  temperature  on  board  by  several 
degrees." 

"Well,  miss, you've  run  it  pretty  close!"  said  the 
porter,  dropping  a  large  tin  box  with  a  bang  on 
deck. 

The  girl  glanced  uneasily  at  her  ill-used  box,  and 
then  turned  to  the  porter  with  a  sense  that  an 
apology  was  due  somewhere, 

"  I  know,"  she  stammered  awkwardly.  "  I  couldn't 
help  it.  My  train  stopped  in  the  tunnel  for  forty- 
seven  minutes.     They  said " 

But  the  porter,  having  secured  his  meagre  tip, 
naturally  did  not  stop  to  hear  what  they  said. 

"Well,  good-bye,  Ned  dear  !  "  said  Edith,  offering 
him  her  soft  pink  cheek  in  an  incidental,  perfunctory 
way.  "  Do  get  proper  food,  and  don't  stay  in  the 
North  after  the  cold  weather  begins !  " 

"Steep  your  soul  in  Wagner,"  said  Sybil,  "and 
avoid  Heringsalat — if  you  can." 

Ned  just  touched  the  fair  cheeks  with  his  lips, 
then  lifted  his  hat,  and  looked  after  the  graceful 
retreating  figures  with  very  genuine  admiration. 
The  little  girl  in  the  plum-coloured  gown  was  sitting 
close  to  the  gangway,  so  for  a  moment  she  neces- 
sarily formed  a  part  of  an  otherwise  charming 
picture. 

Yes,  he  did  feel  grateful  for  his  sisters — when  he 
looked  at  other  people's ! 


THE  STORY  OF   A  FRIENDSHIP. 


II. 


143 


Lunch  on  board  was  a  dreary  affair  that  day. 
The  saloon  was  stifling,  and  everyone  seemed  more 
or  less  depressed.  Even  the  man  whose  rdle  in  life 
was  merely  that  of  spectator  could  wring  from  this 
first  social  gathering  only  the  mild  form  of  amuse- 
ment to  be  gained  by  revising  his  conception  of  his 
fellow-passengers,  now  that  he  saw  them  for  the  first 
time  without  their  headgear. 

**  Odd,"  he  reflected,  "  how  in  some  cases  the 
upper  part  of  the  face  makes  no  difference,  while  in 
others  it  gives  the  lie  to  the*  mouth  and  chin.  I 
hope  I  don't  go  about  the  world  dumbly  exclaim- 
ing, '  Oh,  wretched  man  that  I  am  ! '  What  a  head 
little  Sturdy  has!  Is  it  genius  or  a  tendency  to 
hydrocephalus  ?  I  wonder  why  people  with  that 
particular  shade  of  sandy  red  hair  always  choose 
that  particular  shade  of  inflammatory  red  gown. 
And  what  demon  can  have  prompted  the  brass  but- 
tons?" 

The  captain,  to  be  sure,  was  in  excellent  spirits, 
as  captains  are  wont  to  be, — answering  impossible 
questions  with  imperturbable  good  humour,  and 
striving  in  the  intervals  to  enliven  the  little  party 
of  "  schoolgirls,"  collapsed  and  unselfconscious  as 
these  were  under  the  first  fierce  throes  of  homesick- 
ness. The  only  woman  on  board  who  struck  Ned 
as  being  in  any  way  eligible  from  the  point  of  view 
of  companionship,  a  young  married  lady  travelling 
with  her  little  boy,  left  the  table  before  the  soup 
was  removed.     She  seemed  to  be  suffering  from  a 


144 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


Strong  preconceived  notion  that  she  ought  to  be 
sea-sick. 

Altogether  he  was  thankful  when  the  meal  was 
over  and  he  was  free  to  escape,  free  to  bask  in  the 
sunshine  on  a  luxurious  deck-chair  with  a  handker- 
chief over  his  face,  and  a  copy  of  Keats  within  easy 
reach  of  his  hand. 

He  must  have  fallen  asleep,  for  it  seemed  only 
a  moment  before  his  meditations  were  disturbed  by 
a  peal  of  rippling  laughter.  The  schoolgirls  must 
surely  be  coming  to  life  again.  Yes,  there  they 
were,  comfortably  ensconced  under  an  awning  on 
the  captain's  bridge,  laughing  and  chatting  as  gaily 
as  if  there  had  been  no  tragic  parting  only  an  hour 
or  two  before. 

"  Chameleons !  "  ejaculated  Ned.  "  No  more  sleep 
for  me  this  afternoon."  And  his  conclusion  proved 
perfectly  right.  The  ripple  of  laughter  went  on 
with  scarcely  a  break  till  it  seemed  to  him  that  a 
tiny  stream  of  it  was  drawing  nearer  to  where  he 
sat.  It  was  a  very  tiny  stream — mentally  he  stig- 
matized it  as  a  giggle — and  he  was  not  a  little  sur- 
prised when  it  broke  over  him  with  a  plash. 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  are  courting  a  sunstroke  ?" 

He  removed  the  handkerchief  from  his  face,  and 
looked  up  calmly  with  wide  blue  eyes.  Chivalry  was 
not  one  of  the  virtues  on  which  he  prided  himself,  so 
he  was  in  no  hurry  to  respond.  Moreover,  although 
he  had  travelled  a  good  deal,  he  had  rarely  travelled 
alone,  and  he  had  never  realized  that  young  girls  did 
this  sort  of  thing. 

Yet  there  was  something  quite  attractive  about 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  145 

the  speaker's  face, — a  fresh,  sweet  beautd  de  diable 
which  made  no  pretension  to  anything  more  remark- 
able. He  had  no  objection  at  all  to  entering  into 
conversation,  but,  before  he  had  found  the  reply  he 
sleepily  sought,  another  voice  broke  in, — 

"  *  In  the  days  of  my  youth,'  Father  William  replied, 
'  I  thought  it  might  injure  the  brain  ; 
But  now  I  am  perfectly  sure  I  have  none 
I  do  it  again  and  again.'  " 

Ned  turned  his  eyes  languidly  to  the  second 
speaker.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  classifying  her 
— a  typical  soubrette^  with  red  cheeks,  large  round 
eyes,  diminutive  nose,  and  a  mass  of  touzled  hair. 
Few  men  feel  themselves  at  a  loss  in  dealing  with 
this  particular  type,  and,  as  it  chanced,  her  quota- 
tion supplied  him  with  the  answer  for  which  he 
sought. 

"  '  Curiouser  and  curiouser,'  "  he  said,  looking  at 
her  gravely. 

But  the  girl  who  had  spoken  first  was  not  pre- 
pared to  be  taken  on  her  companion's  level. 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  the  liberty  we  have 
taken,"  she  said  with  a  pretty  blush.  "  The  fact  is 
we  are  all  so  homesick  and  the  sea  is  so  unexpect- 
edly calm,  that  we  thought  of  having  a  little,  con- 
cert to-night  to  cheer  us  up.  Some  of  us  play  and 
sing  a  little,  and — and  we  are  all  quite  sure  you  are 
musical,  so  we  thought  you  would  not  mind  our  ask- 
ing your  help." 

He  smiled  pleasantly.  "  You  flatter  me,"  he  said. 
*'  I  shall  be  delighted  to  turn  over  your  leaves." 


146  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

"  Is  that  all  you  can  do  ? "  asked  the  sou- 
brette. 

In  her  social  circle  at  home  audacity  was  con- 
sidered to  be  her  forte,  and  she  had  cultivated  it 
accordingly. 

"That  is  all." 

"  Then  of  course  you  can't  do  that  decently. 
But  we  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,  you  know.  Look 
here,  will  you  sing  for  us  ? " 

"  Sorry  I  can't." 

"Then  what  is  your  instrument  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  When  I  was  very  young,  and 
felt  the  absolute  necessity  of  converting  my  energy 
into  sound  waves " 

"  Well  ? " 

"  I  found  the  toilet  comb  a  fairly  satisfactory 
medium." 

She  laughed,  then  tapped  her  high-heeled  shoe 
impatiently  on  the  deck. 

"Look  here,"  she  said  again,  "we  don't  know 
you,  you  know." 

"  Oh  !  Thanks.  I  confess  I  was  forgetting  the 
fact." 

"  So  you  might  just  give  us  some  idea  how  much 
urging  you  usually  take.  If  it's  a  case  of  fetch- 
ing camp-stools,  it  would  be  kinder  to  say  so  at 
once." 

He  had  half  risen  from  his  comfortable  chair,  but 
was  by  no  means  prepared  to  relinquish  it. 

"  No,"  he  said  candidly.  "  I  think  camp-stools 
would  be  a  mistake."  Then  he  turned  to  the  girl 
who  had  spoken  first.     "I  am  sorry  I  can't  be  of 


THE   STORY  OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


147 


use,"  he  said;  "but  you  will  find  me  an  excellent 
listener," 

"  Humph  !  "  ejaculated  the  soubrette.  "  Never 
mind,  Miss  Lawrence.  We  still  have  the  profes- 
sional to  fall  back  upon." 

"  The  professional  ? "  said  Ned,  with  languid  in- 
terest. 

"  Yes ;  don't  you  know  ?  The  girl  who  arrived 
late,  with  big  box,  little  box,  carpet-bag,  and  bundle 
— df^d' violin-case — on  her  shoulders.  Looks  musical, 
doesn't  she  ?  I  say," — she  lowered  her  voice  to  a 
whisper, — "  do  you  know  how  she  is  employing  her 
time  this  lovely  afternoon  ?  Studying  German  !  Her 
particular  genius  seems  to  be  for  doing  things  at  the 
eleventh  hour." 

"Enviable  woman!"  said  Ned.  "  My  particular 
genius  is  for  planning  to  do  things  at  the  eleventh 
hour,  till  my  resolutions  are  disturbed  by  hearing 
the  clock  strike  twelve." 

"Well,  I  think  you  have  the  best  of  it.  All  the 
German  she'll  learn  on  the  voyage  won't  do  her 
much  good." 

"  Nonsense,  Miss  Brown  ! "  interposed  her  com- 
panion good-naturedly.  "  How  do  you  know  she  is 
studying  German  ? " 

"  I  can  see  from  here.  Her  pages  are  all  broken 
up  into  exercises  an  inch  deep.  ^  Der  Vater  ist 
gross.  Die  Mutter  ist  gut.'  You  know  the  sort  of 
thing." 

"  A  whole  philosophy  of  life,  in  fact,"  said  Ned 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye — 

" '  He  for  God  only  ;  she  for  God  in  him.'" 


148  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

The  girls  looked  puzzled,  and  he  regretted  his 
far-fetched  observation.  What  intelligent  women 
Edith  and  Sybil  were,  with  all  their  limitations! 

But  Miss  Brown  saw  she  had  missed  a  point,  and 
hastened  to  change  the  subject. 

"  Do  come  and  help  us  to  tackle  her,"  she  said. 
"  I  believe  she  is  strong-minded." 

"Then  my  sex  is  clearly  out  of  it;"  and,  just 
lifting  his  straw  hat,  he  resumed  his  lounge  and  his 
book  with  a  sensation  of  considerable  relief. 

And  then  he  found  himself  wondering  how  solemn 
Sturdy  would  enjoy  the  baiting  that  awaited  her. 
But  there !  She  was  a  girl,  of  course,  and  bourgeoise 
at  that.  No  doubt  she  would  be  highly  flattered  by 
the  request,  and  only  too  pleased  to  trot  out  her 
repertoire  of  pretty  pieces. 

But  here  he  was  mistaken.  "  Solemn  Sturdy " 
only  looked  up  from  her  book  to  give  a  brief  refusal. 
"  I  never  play  in  public,"  she  said. 

"  Public  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Brown.  "  Call  this 
public  ;  " 

The  girl  coloured,  but  stood  to  her  guns.  "  It  is 
to  me,"  she  said  simply. 

"But  I  don't  see  what  is  the  use  of  studying 
music  at  all,"  said  Miss  Lawrence  persuasively,  "  if 
you  don't  mean  to  give  pleasure  to  other  people." 

The  girl  opened  her  lips  to  speak ;  then  closed 
them  again.  "  There  are  other  uses,"  she  said 
shortly. 

"  Oh,  I  know !  I  am  used  to  hearing  talk  about 
Art  for  Art's  sake,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I  am 
afraid  I  must  be  a  very  commonplace  person,  and 


THE   STORY  OF   A  FRIENDSHIP.  i^g 

quite  unworthy  of  true  Art;  but  it  always  seems  to 
me  a  pity  when  superior  people  throw  cold  water  on 
the  simple  pleasures  that  crop  up  by  the  way " 

**  It's  a  thing  any  fool  can  do ! "  put  in  Miss 
Brown  tersely. 

"  We  don't  ask  them  really  to  enjoy  things  that 
are  beneath  them,"  went  on  the  other,  taking  a  leaf 
from  her  companion's  book ;  "  but  sometimes  I  think 
it  would  be  worth  while  to  make  believe  a  little  bit. 
It  is  very  weak  and  frivolous,  of  course ;  but  we  do 
want  to  be  happy  in  our  own  way,  not  in  theirs." 

She  paused  for  a  moment,  awaiting  a  reply ;  but 
the  girl  did  not  look  up,  so  the  two  companions 
walked  away. 

"  One  to  you.  Sturdy  !  "  thought  Ned.  "  I  wonder 
how  you  like  that  ?" 

She  did  not  leave  him  long  in  doubt.  In  another 
minute  she  had  walked  up  to  the  two  girls,  blushing 
furiously. 

"  I  didn't  mean  not  to  answer,"  she  said,  her  voice 
quivering  with  the  effort  the  action  cost  her.  "  I 
was  thinking.  You  said  some  very  true  things  just 
now.  I  was  thinking  only  of  myself;  and — and — I 
will  play  to-night  if  you  like;  but  I  know  I  shall  do 
it  very  badly." 

"Well  played,  Sturdy,  by  Jove!"  was  Ned's 
emphatic  mental  comment.  And  it  pleased  him  to 
fancy  that  from  that  moment  the  conversation  of 
the  trio  was  on  quite  a  different  level.  They  ceased 
for  the  moment  to  be  merely  "  schoolgirls,"  and  al- 
most became  human  beings. 

"  But,  oh,  my  child,"  he  said  regretfully,  "  you  are 


I50 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


sadly  out  of  proportion.     Why  that  beetroot  red  ? 
And  what  a  hat  for  the  North  Sea !  " 

Then  he  stretched  himself  with  a  yawn.  "  So  we 
must  sit  out  this  blessed  concert  after  all !  " 

It  did  not  prove  so  great  an  ordeal  as  he  had 
anticipated.  Several  of  the  girls  played  well — as 
girls  do  nowadays — and  one  or  two  of  the  men  threw 
themselves  into  the  entertainment  with  commend- 
able zeal.'  But  the  feature  of  the  evening  was  un- 
doubtedly "Sturdy's"  performance.  Her  violin  was 
cheap  and  harsh  in  tone,  and  her  nervousness  was 
ridiculously  out  of  proportion  to  the  importance  of 
the  occasion.  Indeed  the  moral  effort  it  cost  her  to 
play  at  all  might,  under  other  circumstances,  have 
enabled  her  to  lead  a  forlorn  hope,  or  to  face  the 
tortures  of  the  Inquisition.  But,  apart  from  all  this, 
it  was  easy  to  see  that  her  ear  was  indifferent,  and 
her  whole  method  hopelessly  bad.  Her  kindly  lis- 
teners scarcely  knew  where  to  look  as  she  played ; 
the  ignorant  simply  suffered  ;  the  initiated  saw  no 
glimmer  of  hope  or  promise  ;  but  Sturdy  scraped 
doggedly  on  to  the  end. 

It  was  over  at  last.  She  evidently  realized  that 
it  had  been  a  failure,  for  she  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  well-meant  conventional  remarks  that  followed 
it,  and  her  lips  were  set  firm  and  hard  as  she  deliber- 
ately returned  the  showy  new  violin  to  its  showy 
new  case. 

"  Is  that  a  *  Straddledarius  *  ? "  said  Ned  playfully, 
for  the  mere  sake  of  breaking  the  awkward  silence. 

*' Oh,  of  course!"  she  replied  with  unnecessary 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


151 


bitterness ;  and,  unconsciously  holding  her  head 
very  straight,  she  made  her  way  up  the  companion- 
way  to  the  darkness  and  solitude  of  the  deck. 

Poor  little  Sturdy  ! 

•*  Well,  if  that's  what  you  call  Art  for  Art's  sake," 
said  Miss  Brown,  "  I  prefer  to  give  my  friends  a 
little  Philistine  pleasure  ;  "  and,  seating  herself  un- 
asked at  the  piano,  she  dashed  into  a  swaying  irre- 
sistible waltz,  which  covered  poor  Sturdy's  fiasco 
more  effectually  perhaps  than  the  kindest  intentions 
could  have  done. 


III. 

It  was  shortly  after  midnight  when  the  steamer 
began  to  roll,  and,  an  hour  or  two  later.  Sturdy 
awoke  in  her  berth  with  that  unearthly  sense  of 
strangeness  and  loneliness  which  almost  makes  the 
inexperienced  traveller  feel  as  if  he  had  awakened 
in  another  world. 

The  lamps  were  burning  low  in  the  cabin,  and 
from  every  peg  a  gown  or  cloak  was  swinging  mys- 
teriously to  and  fro  like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock. 
The  dash  of  the  waves  past  the  port-holes  seemed 
suggestively  near;  and  it  was  a  relief  even  to  listen 
to  the  noisy  monotonous  rattle  of  the  screw,  which 
seemed  unwearyingly  to  reiterate  that  all  was  going 
well  on  deck  in  spite  of  the  wind  and  the  darkness. 

For  a  time  Sturdy  lay  steeped  in  a  sense  of  lone- 
liness and  home-sickness  ;  but  at  last  this  was  broken 
up,  as  a  breeze  breaks  up  enshrouding  mists,  by  a 
vague  haunting  recollection.     Surely  there  was  some- 


152 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


thing  else,  something  more  definite,  about  which  she 
ought  to  be  fretting,  than  her  mere  loneliness?  Ah, 
yes,  to  be  sure,  there  it  was !  No  need  to  go  in 
search  of  it.  Why  had  she  been  such  a  fool  as  to 
attempt  that  ^<?/^/-^ /  It  was  too  trying!  She  had 
played  it  so  well  the  day  before  she  left  home,  and 
now — she  never  wished  to  hear  it  again  as  long  as 
she  lived !  Of  course  she  would  never  see  these 
people  any  more,  so  after  to-morrow  it  would  not 
matter  ;  and  even  now — if  there  was  a  real  storm, 
they  would  be  sick  and  frightened,  and  would  forget 
all  about  that  miserable  concert. 

And,  having  thus,  in  a  figure,  set  Rome  on  fire  to 
cook  her  poor  little  chop,  Sturdy  composed  herself 
to  sleep  once  more. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  she  awoke  to  see  a 
tangled  head  peeping  through  her  curtains. 

"  I  say  !  "  said  Miss  Brown's  cheerful  voice. 

"Yes?" 

"  I  have  been  lying  awake  for  the  last  hour  try- 
ing to  think  what  the  'other  uses'  of  violin-playing 
are.  Do  you  think  I  could  understand  if  you  ex- 
plained them  to  me?" 

Sturdy  did  not  stop  this  time  to  reflect  what  was 
the  right  and  honest  thing  to  say.  She  took  the 
first  weapon  that  came  to  hand. 

"When  people  are  fortunate  enough  to  give  as 
much  pleasure  by  their  music  as  you  do,"  she 
said  coldly,  "  they  don't  need  to  think  of  other 
uses." 

Miss  Brown's  round  eyes  grew  rounder  with  sur- 
prise.    "You  are  queer,"  she  said  candidly.     "Do 


THE  STORY   OF  A   FRIENDSHIP. 


153 


you  know,  yesterday  afternoon  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  turn  out  pious  ?  " 

The  other  blushed  painfully,  but  would  not  admit 
that  the  words  struck  home. 

"  I  know,"  she  said.  "  You  thought  you  had  only 
to  put  your  penny  in  the  slot,  and  take  out  your  nice 
little  cake  of  butter-scotch." 

Miss  Brown  made  her  way  to  the  looking-glass 
in  search  of  a  hairpin,  but  presently  came  back 
again 

"Look  here,"  she  said.  "Was  that  original — 
what  you  said  just  now  ?  It  was  clever,  you 
know." 

"  Nonsense ! " 

"  And  you  don't  look  clever  a  bit." 

"So  I  have  often  been  told." 

"  I  don't  see  any  fun  in  being  clever  myself. 
Men  like  you  far  better  if  you  are  jolly." 

"  I  don't  see  that  that  has  anything  to  do  with  it. 
Is  it  nearly  breakfast-time  ? " 

"  Quite,  I  fancy ;  but  my  watch  has  gone  wrong." 
She  gave  the  dainty  enamelled  toy  a  vigorous  shake, 
and  looked  up  with  eyes  full  of  serious  perplexity. 
"  Do  you  think  the  engine-man  will  be  able  to  put  it 
right  for  me  ? " 

Sturdy  smothered  a  laugh  in  the  bedclothes. 
"  If  not,  I  would  try  the  stoker,"  she  said.  "  Do 
you  mind  letting  me  get  up  ? " 

Breakfast  had  already  begun  when  the  two  girls 
entered  the  saloon,  and  their  appearance  was  a 
matter   of    some  interest,  as    the    sea    was   by  this 


154 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


time  sufficiently  rough  to  keep  all  the  other  ladies 
in  their  cabins.  Moreover,  each  of  the  two  had 
acquired  a  definite  individuality  the  evening  before 
in  the  eyes  of  the  other  passengers — Miss  Brown  by 
her  frank  audacity,  Sturdy  by  her  ludicrous  and 
pathetic  failure. 

As  soon  as  the  meal  was  over,  Miss  Brown  en- 
sconced herself  in  the  deck  smoking  cabin,  with  a 
little  circle  of  admirers  round  her ;  while  Sturdy 
sat  uncomfortably  perched  on  a  high  wooden  seat 
in  the  open,  her  country-shod  feet  dangling  some 
inches  from  the  ground,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
book  which  had  afforded  Miss  Brown  so  much  enter- 
tainment the  day  before. 

Ned  was  amused  by  the  contrast  between  the 
two  girls,  and  mentally  sketched  an  impressionist 
description  of  them  for  Sybil's  benefit.  It  was  his 
custom  to  do  this  when  separated  from  his  sisters ; 
but — lest  he  should  appear  too  incredible  in  his 
character  of  brother — it  is  only  just  to  add  that 
very  few  of  these  descriptions  were  ever  committed 
to  paper. 

And  then  he  began  to  wish  that  the  lady  with  the 
little  boy  had  been  able  to  come  on  deck.  He  was 
depressed,  and  inclined  to  be  sea-sick,  and,  manlike, 
he  wanted  someone  to  interest  and  amuse  him. 
Anybody  would  do.  He  spent  a  few  minutes  on 
the  captain's  bridge,  but  the  deafening  wind  drove 
him  down  on  deck  again. 

He  was  not  in  the  least  degree  tempted  to  join 
Miss  Brown's  coterie;  and  the  plum-coloured  gown 
was  certainly  not  attractive  either,  even  though  the 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


155 


vulgar  hat  had  been  replaced  to  considerable  ad- 
vantage by  the  hood  of  a  dark  grey  cloak.  More- 
over, the  owner  of  the  gown  had  twice  already 
repelled  his  commonplace,  conventional  civilities; 
and,  although  he  justly  attributed  this  to  mere 
girlish  gaucherie,  he  had  no  desire  to  lay  himself 
open  to  snub  number  three.  The  bait  was  not 
sufficiently  tempting.  True,  the  girl  had  given 
some  sign  of  possessing  rather  a  fine  moral  vein 
the  evening  before,  but  one  might  talk  to  her  for 
hours  without  striking  that  particular  vein  again; 
and  if,  by  ill  luck,  one  struck  music  instead ! 

So  he  paced  up  and  down  till  it  became  almost 
impossible  to  retain  a  footing  on  the  wave-washed 
deck ;  till  Miss  Brown,  with  the  roses  all  fled  from 
her  cheeks,  had  been  assisted  down  the  companion- 
way  ;  till  he  and  the  plum-coloured  gown  retained 
sole  possession  of  the  field. 

A  sudden  lurch  of  the  vessel  made  him  stagger, 
and  he  wondered  whether  his  companion  felt  as 
acutely  miserable  as  he  did. 

Apparently  not.  She  had  just  raised  her  eyes 
from  her  book,  and  the  expression  of  her  face  as 
she  gazed  absently  over  the  heaving  grey  water, 
recalled  to  his  mind  —  incongruously  enough  it 
seemed — a  rapt  young  nun  whom  he  had  seen  one 
day  at  Lyon  through  the  grating  of  a  queer  old 
chapel. 

That  transient  expression  gave  her  face  a  note 

of  distinction  that  almost  startled   him — it  was  so 

curiously  at  variance  with   his  previous  conception 

of  her ;    and    he   began    to  wonder  what  her  book 

II 


156 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


could  be.  Not  German  exercises  surely.  What 
a  pity  she  was  not  decently  dressed,  and  a  little 
less  self-conscious ! 

But  in  spite  of  these  obvious  drawbacks  her 
placid  self-sufficiency  and  complete  disregard  of 
the  buffeting  elements  were  prevoking,  and  at  last 
he  stopped  in  front  of  her,  balancing  himself  with 
difficulty,  and  wrapping  his  Inverness  cape  round 
his  lean  figure. 

"  You  are  plucky,"  he  said. 

No  one  could  have  resisted  the  charm  of  those 
clear  boyish  eyes,  but  unfortunately  their  very 
frankness  had  the  effect  of  making  her  self-con- 
scious, and  she  made  an  obvious  effort  to  pull  the 
scrimp  skirt  over  her  clumsy  boots.  She  was  angry 
too.  She  felt  quite  sure  that  this  languid,  superior- 
looking  man  would  not  trouble  to  speak  to  her  when 
women  of  his  own  set  were  present;  so  why  should 
he  go  out  of  his  way  to  be  agreeable  just  because 
they  chanced  to  be  alone  ? 

"  I  don't  see  any  occasion  for  pluck,"  she  said. 

"  I  think  I  could  find  you  a  more  sheltered  seat  if 
you  would  let  me." 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  am  quite  comfortable  here." 

This  was  so  obviously  impossible  that  his  face 
broke  into  a  broad  brotherly  smile, 

"  I  can  only  congratulate  you  on  your  book  then," 
he  said;  "it  must  be  enthralling." 

« It  is." 

Her  expression  changed,  and  her  eye  fell  lovingly 
on  the  page. 

He  took  this  as  a  sign  that  the  interview  was 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


157 


over,  and  staggered  away  in  no  very  amiable  humour. 
He  asked  so  little  of  women  as  he  went  through  life, 
and  it  happened  very  rarely  that  they  failed  to  give 
him  as  much  as  he  asked  ! 

"Little  stick!  "  he  said  to  himself.  "She  is  not 
so  attractive  that  she  need  hold  herself  so  dear ! " 

He  smoked  a  cigarette,  and  then,  looking  at  his 
watch  with  a  yawn,  he  decided  to  go  downstairs. 

But  just  at  this  moment  the  wind  caught  his 
companion's  paper-covered  book,  and  threw  it  in 
half-a-dozen  pieces  across  the  deck.  Before  he  had 
realized  the  situation,  she  had  sped  on  an  awkward 
chase  after  the  farthest  fragment ;  and,  by  dint  of  a 
desperate  scramble,  they  gathered  up  the  remainder 
between  them.  The  shabby  grey  cover  fell  to  his 
gun,  as  he  afterwards  expressed  it;  and,  before  re- 
turning it  to  her,  he  glanced  frankly  at  the  title, — 
Die  Erziehung  des  Menschengeschlechts,  von  Gotthold 
Ephraim  Lessing* 

"Jove!  "  he  exclaimed,  forgiving  and  forgetting 
in  a  moment  the  undignified  exertion  to  which  he 
had  been  put.  "  Is  that  the  sort  of  literature 
with  which  you  while  away  the  time  on  a  stormy 
voyage?" 

He  was  smiling  again,  but  this  time  his  face  bore 
witness  to  such  genuine  surprise  and  interest  that 
she  answered  eagerly, — 

"  Thank  you  so  very  very  much.  .1  was  afraid  it 
was  gone  for  ever,  and  another  copy  would  never 
have  been  the  same.     Have — you  read  it  ? " 

*  The  Education  of  the  Human  Race,  by  G.  E.  Lessing. 


158 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  Not  in  the  original.  You  have  the  advantage 
of  me  there.     I  have  read  Robertson's  translation." 

*'  I  don't  read  German  well,"  she  said  colouring, 
"but  this  is  worth  digging  at." 

*'  Rather.  I  am  afraid  my  knowledge  of  the 
language  is  too  limited  to  be  utilized  even  as  a  pick- 
axe." He  turned  over  the  leaves  as  lovingly  as  she 
might  have  done  herself.  "  The  fellow  was  a  poet 
as  well  as  a  seer.  He  put  his  heart  as  well  as  his 
head  into  this,"  He  paused,  wondering  whether  it 
was  worth  while  to  give  utterance  to  the  thought 
in  his  mind.  "  A  book  written  with  the  intellect 
only,  affects  me  like  a  picture  on  which  the  artist 
has  *  lavished  all  the  wealth  of  his  paint-box,'  as 
the  novelists  put  it,  without  producing  a  bit  of  real 
colour." 

Was  it  really  the  same  girl  who  stood  looking 
up  into  his  face,  hanging  on  his  random  words  with 
such  breathless  interest  ?  The  vulgar  unbecoming 
dress  had  somehow  vanished  out  of  the  picture  alto- 
gether ;  even  the  homely  features  were  merged  in  an 
expression  of  living  interest,  compared  to  which 
beauty  itself  might  well  have  appeared  tame. 

At  last  she  drew  a  long  breath.  "  It  seems  to 
me  just  wonderful,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  though 
I  have  only  spelt  it  out  line  by  line.  Perhaps,  as 
you  have  read  it,  you  would  be  so  very  kind  as 
to  explain  one  or  two  things  I  didn't  quite  under- 
stand ? " 

"  Oh,  come  !  "  he  said,  his  blue  eyes  dilating  with 
a  comical  expression  of  alarm  and  amusement.  "I 
shall  begin  to  regret  that  I  owned   up  to  having 


THE  STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP. 


159 


read  it.  It  seems  much  more  likely  that  you  can 
help  me." 

*'  Don't  laugh  at  me,  please !  "  she  said.  Why, 
there  were  actually  tears  in  her  eyes !  What  a 
queer  little  customer  she  was  !  Robinson  Crusoe 
could  scarcely  have  looked  more  excited  when  he 
came  upon  the  footprint  in  the  sand.  "  I  never 
could  have  said  what  you  said  just  now,  I  didn't 
even  understand  it  all,  and  yet  it  seemed  so  true." 

He  laughed  softly.  He  may  be  forgiven  if 
Gretchen's  words  passed  through  his  mind — "  Why, 
that  is  what  our  pastor  says, — only  in  rather  differ- 
ent words." 

"  You  must  have  read  so  much,  and  seen  so 
much,"  she  went  on  ;  "  and  I — mine  is  such  a  little 
world !  I  thought  I  never  should  meet  the  people 
who  like  the  books  I  like!  " 

He  looked  down  at  her  from  his  great  height 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  amused  at  the  turn  affairs  had 
taken.  As  his  admiration  for  her  grew,  he  realized 
more  fully  what  a  child  she  was. 

"  Come  and  sit  in  that  sheltered  corner  I  told 
you  of,"  he  said  kindly,  "  and  tell  me  about  the  books 
you  like." 

And  that  was  how  it  began. 


l60  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


IV. 


A  man  unspoil'd, 
Sweet,  generous,  and  humane ; 
With  all  the  fortunate  have  not — 

Matthew  Arnold. 

Surely  there  are  few  things  on  earth  so  alto- 
gether desirable  as  a  rare  old  friendship — issuing, 
not  from  glamour  and  ignorance,  but  from  well-tried 
confidence  and  knowledge;  animating  us,  not  with 
the  heats  and  chills  of  fever,  but  with  the  quiet  con- 
stant glow  of  vivid  life,  providing  us,  now  with 
fresh  springs  of  energy,  now  with  rest  and  healing 
waters  after  labour  and  defeat;  throwing  back  to  us 
an  image  of  ourselves  which  we  recognize,  and  yet 
would  fain  live  up  to;  taking  us  thankfully  for  what 
we  are,  and  yet  ever  unconsciously  reminding  us  of 
what  we  would  be.  Restful  in  its  very  essence  is  a 
friendship  like  this,  though  constantly  stirred  through 
its  depths  by  a  silent  spring  of  effort  to  attain  more 
nearly  its  own  ideal. 

And  yet,  when  all  is  said,  there  is  a  charm  about 
new  friendship  too,  with  its  shallow  transparency,  its 
pretty  leaps  and  bounds,  its  constant  sparkle  of  sur- 
prises. In  youth  we  find  it  full  of  infinite  possi- 
bilities. In  manhood  hope  and  interest  are  not  so 
easily  roused:  experience  has  proved  most  things  to 
be  mediocre,  and  the  true  exception  occurs  so  seldom 
that  we  have  almost  ceased  to  believe  in  its  existence. 
Yet,  surely,  although  it  is  only  the  tyro  who  is  always 
ready  to  believe  he  sees  the  phenomenon  which  his 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  i6i 

handbook  marks  '*  very  rare,"  the  wise  man  will  be 
disposed  to  walk  warily,  in  science  as  in  life,  keep- 
ing his  eyes  and  mind  open  even  for  that  which  he 
scarcely  expects  to  find. 

But  at  this  time,  of  course,  neither  Ned  nor 
Sturdy  had  any  thought  of  friendship.  As  iron 
sharpeneth  iron,  so  their  minds  worked  upon  one  an- 
other; and  yet  the  simile  fits  them  ill,  for  his  mind 
was  as  tempered  steel  compared  to  her  rich  crude 
ore.  It  was  natural  that  she  should  hear  in  all  his 
criticisms  the  ring  of  true  genius,  for,  broadly  speak- 
ing, she  had  read  only  books,  not  books  about  books. 
Here  at  last  was  life, — here  was  such  conversation 
as  she  had  pictured  when  she  had  read  of  the  Nodes 
Ambrosiance,  of  the  old  dramatists  at  the  Mermaid, 
and  of  the  Lake  poets  at  the  Swan. 

And,  somewhat  to  his  surprise,  he  found  un- 
doubted charm  in  her.  talk  too.  It  was  so  impos- 
sible to  predict  what  her  views  would  be  about 
anything,  and  yet  she  was  so  honest  in  all  her  in- 
consistencies. He  thought  he  had  never  met  such  a 
curious  mixture  of  humility,  insight,  conventionality, 
and  downright  priggishness. 

"  And  what  is  taking  you  to  Germany  ? "  he 
said,  when  they  had  talked  of  books  galore ;  and  his 
eyes  brimmed  over  with  that  quiet  smile  which  al- 
ways seemed  to  have  a  trace  of  raillery  in  it. 
"  Simply  the  search  for  culture  and  for  kindred 
souls?" 

She  frowned,  but  only  with  the  effort  to  answer 
honestly. 

"  I  want  to  make  my  life  tell"  she  said  slowly. 


1 62  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

"  It  seems  a  dreadful  thing  to  have  only  one  life,  and 
to  let  that  slip  away.     Do  you  know  what  I  mean  ? " 

There  was  no  smile  on  his  face  now  as  he  looked 
rather  grimly  over  the  grey  water. 

"  Unfortunately,"  he  said,  with  just  a  touch  of 
bitterness  in  his  usually  mellow  tone, — "  or  fortu- 
nately perhaps  for  long-suffering  mankind — the 
Fates  have  not  given  it  to  all  of  us  to  *  make  our 
lives  tell.'     Some  of  us  are  fane  to  be  content  if — 

'  From  day  to  day  our  little  boat 
Rocks  in  its  harbour,  lodging  peaceably.'  " 

She  glanced  up  quickly  at  his  delicate,  intellec- 
tual face.  She  would  not  have  dared  to  follow  up 
the  opening  he  had  given  her,  but  he  had  not  real- 
ized how  often  tact  takes  up  her  abode  behind  the 
least  likely  exterior,  and  he  hastened  to  retreat  to 
safer  ground. 

"  And  why  Germany  in  particular  ? "  he  asked 
genially. 

She  tossed  back  a  little  streamer  of  hair  from 
her  forehead,  and  answered  almost  defiantly,  as 
though  she  were  well  used  to  opposition  on  this 
score. 

"  There  is  so  much  good  thought  in  Germany.  I 
want  to  get  into  the  heart  of  it.  And  there  is  the 
music,  and — living  is  cheap." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it." 

"  Oh,  not  for  you  !  But  I  think  I  can  do  it  very 
cheaply, — and  earn  something  by  teaching  English. 
You  see,  my  people  have  already  kept  me  for  a  year 
at  a  London  boarding-school." 


THE  STORY   OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


163 


He  raised  his  eyebrows.  Was  this  the  prod- 
uct of  a  London  boarding-school?  "And  didn't 
you  get  a  feast  of  culture  there  ? "  he  asked, 
amused. 

She  shook  her  head  seriously.  "  I  think  I  got 
more  culture  from  the  public  library  at  home,  with 
its  Carlyle  and  Smiles  and  George  Eliot,  and 
Blackie's  Self-Culture.  Boarding-school  was  all 
chocolate  cream  and  lemonade,  don't  you  know  ? 
French    and    dancing    and    water-colour    painting 

and " 

"Violin-playing,"  he  suggested  mischievously. 
She  blushed  so  painfully  that  he  was  ashamed  of 
the  uncalled-for  thrust,  especially  as  she  obviously 
had  not  the  savoir-faire  to  parry  it. 

"  I  shan't  play  the  violin  any  more,"  she  said  at 
last  humbly,  surprised  to  find  how  much  less  sore 
she  felt  on  the  subject  than  she  had  done  an  hour 
or  two  before.  "  It  ought  not  to  have  needed  last 
night  to  teach  me  that.  But  my  Mother  was  so 
proud  of  it,  and  I — I  thought  if  I  could  learn  even 
a  little,  it  would  give  me  a  better  position  as  a 
teacher." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause  while  he  reflected 
what  a  brute  he  was. 

"  So  that  is  how  you  mean  to  make  your  life 
tell  ? " 

She   nodded.     "  It  seems   absurd  now,  I  know ; 
but — I  have  such  a  wonderful  picture  in  my  mind 
of  what  a  teacher  might  be,  and  some  people  are 
teachers  who  haven't  even  got  that." 
"  A  few,"  he  answered  drily. 


164  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"  And  if  one  tries  and  tries  to  make  the  very  most 
of  oneself "     She  broke  off  abruptly. 

"But  don't  you  mean  to  specialize  a  bit?  It  is 
all  very  well  to  make  the  most  of  yourself ;  but  you 
can't  teach  everything," 

Her  eyes  shone  with  the  perception  of  a  deeper 
meaning  in  his  words  than  he  had  meant  them  to 
bear.  "  I  know.  Of  course  one  only  ought  to  teach 
the  things  that  set  one's  own  mind  on  fire ;  but  it  is 
difficult  to  get  your  foot  on  the  ladder  when  you 
have  no  influence  at  all.  It  is  not  a  question  of 
what  you  have  got,  but  of  what  other  people  want. 
You  can  get  a  good  price  for  the  shadow ;  the  sub- 
stance has  no  market  value  at  all." 

He  laughed  good-humouredly.  "  It  is  a  pity  you 
weren't  more  fortunate  in  your  boarding-school. 
They  do  that  sort  of  thing  rather  well  nowadays. 
Where  was  it  ? " 

"  At  Cromwell  Park." 

^^Ah!"  Then  perhaps  there  was  some  excuse 
for  the  remark  about  the  substance  and  the  shadow. 

But  the  emphatic  monosyllable  was  not  lost  on 
her. 

"  You  see,  down  in  the  black  country  one  doesn't 
know ;  and  indeed  it  was  my  own  fault  if  I  didn't 
learn  a  good  deal,  for  they  took  us  about  to  see 
things,  and  we  sometimes  heard  a  good  lecture  or 
a  good  concert  or  a  good  preacher.  But  I  was 
thirsty,  don't  you  know  ?  They  always  seemed  to 
be  just  letting  me  wet  my  lips  when  I  wanted  to  get 
a  good  drink." 

He  laughed.     *'  Like  that  remarkable  child,"  he 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  165 

said,  "you  were  constrained  to  amuse  yourself  with 
pebbles,  while  the  great  ocean  of  truth  lay  all  undis- 
covered before  you." 

"Yes,"  she  answered  ruefully,  half  entering  into 
the  spirit  of  his  chaff,  "and  they  wouldn't  even  let 
me  fill  my  basket  with  pebbles !  " 

"  Ah  !  It  is  a  mistake,  you  see,  to  have  a  larger 
basket  than  other  people." 

But  this  time  he  had  gone  just  too  far.  "  Oh," 
she  said,  suddenly  waking  up  into  full  self-conscious- 
ness, "  I  was  so  longing  to  hear  you  talk,  and  now — 
how  I  must  have  bored  you  !  " 

"  On  the  contrary.  You  have  whiled  away  the 
time  delightfully.  I  am  afraid  the  story  of  my  aim- 
less driftings  would  fall  very  flat  after  yours." 

But  he  wanted  good-naturedly  to  set  her  at  her 
ease  again,  and  he  talked  on  for  half  an  hour,  so 
simply,  so  picturesquely,  that  it  did  not  occur  to  her 
till  long  afterwards  how  rarely  in  the  story  of  his 
wanderings  he  referred  directly  to  himself. 

He  talked  to  her  of  Cambridge,  till  she  heard  the 
plash  of  oars  on  the  river,,  and  the  solemn  pealing  of 
the  organ  through  the  lofty  arches  of  King's ;  till 
she  saw  the  smooth-shaven  lawns,  and  smelt  the 
heavy  scent  of  the  syringa  in  the  college  backs.  He 
talked,  too,  of  his  first  winter  in  Italy,  of  how  he  had 
looked  out  from  his  third-floor  window  on  the  stretch 
of  blue  water  with  its  strip  of  yellow  sandstone  ;  and, 
beyond  these,  on  the  sage-green  olive  slopes  and  the 
grey  limestone  precipices  of  the  Carraras,  gradually 
shading  off  into  the  dazzling  white  of  the  snowy 
peaks. 


1 66  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

His  enthusiasm  for  colour  and  beauty  was  a  reve- 
lation to  her.  Cambridge  she  understood,  as  she 
understood  Germany.  The  very  names  were  full 
of  the  suggestion  of  eager  life  and  intellectual  pro- 
gress. But  Italy ! — Italy  seemed  asleep  or  dead. 
Surely  one  little  human  life  was  too  short  for  mere 
Italy ! 

It  was  with  no  deliberate  intent  that  Ned  avoided 
all  unnecessary  mention  of  himself,  nor  was  his  silence 
on  this  subject  merely  a  question  of  his  riper  years. 
Such  personal  talk  was  at  all  times  as  foreign  to  his 
nature  as,  when  she  was  roused,  it  was  easy  and 
natural  to  her.  He  was  one  of  those  rare  souls, 
who,  even  in  an  introspective  age,  instinctively  live 
not  in  their  own  moods  and  feelings,  but  in  the 
world  outside,  and  in  the  thoughts  of  those  "  who 
gave  us  larger  hopes  and  larger  cares."  So  natural 
was  this  habit  of  mind  that  he  scarcely  recognized 
it  himself,  and  perhaps  for  this  reason  he  was  moved 
to  greater  admiration  than  most  men  and  women 
would  have  been  by  the  strong  individuality  of  his 
little  companion,  and  by  her  dogged  determination 
to  "make  her  life  tell." 

And  so  he  talked,  and  so  she  listened,  as  Desde- 
mona  might  have  listened  to  the  Moor,  till  the 
luncheon  bell  brought  them  back  to  the  present 
again — to  the  deserted  deck  and  to  the  grey  North 
Sea. 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


167 


The  sea  became  much  calmer  during  the  after- 
noon, and  one  by  one  the  passengers  struggled  up 
on  deck,  looking  not  a  little  washed-out,  and  rather 
indifferent  as  to  the  details  of  their  personal  appear- 
ance. 

A  few  young  men,  in  a  rebound  of  high  spirits, 
started  a  game  of  quoits,  and  Ned  threw  himself 
into  it  heart  and  soul,  though,  under  the  conditions, 
it  was  rather  a  question  of  chance  than  of  skill.  He 
belonged  to  the  well-marked  class  of  men  who  have 
a  knack  of  looking  superior  to  their  surroundings, 
without  in  any  way  suggesting  the  idea  that  they 
are  aware  of  the  fact.  When  the  game  was  over, 
his  eye  fell  on  his  little  acquaintance,  as  she  leant 
against  the  bulwarks,  watching  the  whirling  white 
trail  in  the  wake  of  the  vessel.  She  turned  with  a 
bright  smile  as  he  came  up. 

"  That's  right !  "  he  said,  sitting  down  and  cross- 
ing his  legs  as  comfortably  as  might  be.  "  I  didn't 
feel  sure  that  I  wasn't  going  to  be  suppressed  again, 
like  the  dormouse." 

"  Suppressed  ? "  she  said  wistfully,     *'  You  !  " 

He  laughed.  The  game  had  proved  exhilarat- 
ing. "  One  would  think,  to  hear  her  talk,  that  she 
had  not  done  it  systematically  for  twenty-four 
hours." 

"  Was  I  horrid  ?    I  am  so  sorry  " 

"You  were  quite  right.  In  a  general  way,  when 
a  girl  is  travelling  alone,  the  best  thing  she  can  do 
is  to  keep  herself  to  herself." 


1 68  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"  It  wasn't  that,"  she  said  eagerly.  "  Not  with 
you." 

She  ought  to  have  stopped  there,  of  course,  but 
her  naturally  quick  perceptions  had  been  only  very 
partially  developed.  "  Do  you  think  I  don't  know," 
she  went  on  quietly,  with  suppressed  feeling,  "that 
I  am  only  a  plain  ill-dressed  girl  whom  no  man  is 
likely  to  speak  to  for  his  own  sake  ?  I  knew  you 
only  did  it  out  of  kindness." 

I  suppose  few  men  would  have  enjoyed  the  situa- 
tion she  forced  upon  him ;  but  the  blue  eyes  had 
never  looked  more  limpid,  more  absolutely  imper- 
sonal than  when  he  turned  to  reply.  The  very  un- 
dercurrent of  quiet  amusement  seemed  gone  from 
them  for  the  moment. 

"And  'what  ails  you'  at  kindness?"  he  asked 
gravely.  "  Do  you  make  a  point  of  never  doing  a 
kind  act  yourself  ?  Suppose  I  did  do  it  out  of  kind- 
ness ?" 

She  laughed  rather  bitterly.  "  Why,  then,  of 
course — it  was  very  kind  of  you  !  " 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  she  groped  her 
way  to  his  point  of  view,  and  saw  the  matter  imper- 
sonally. 

"  Of  course,"  she  went  on  apologetically,  with  a 
sudden  sense  of  her  own  smallness,  "if  it  had  oc- 
curred to  me  that  you  knew  infinitely  more  about 
the  things  I  like  than  I  do  myself,  I  should  not  have 
cared  whether  it  was  kindness  or  not.  I  mean — I 
should  have  accepted  the  kindness  gladly  and  grate- 
fully— as  I  do  now." 

She  paused  again. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  i6q 

"  I  only  want  men  to  understand  that  I  quite 
realize — that  I  can't  compete — with  Miss  Brown," 

He  laughed.  "  You  are  severe.  No,  I  am  afraid 
you  can't." 

"  Miss  Brown's  name  slipped  out.  I  didn't  mean 
to  be  spiteful.  I  meant  I  can't  compete  with — with 
other  girls.  And  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  that, 
and  am  content  that  it  should  be  so,  if  only  men 
wouldn't  sacrifice  themselves,  and  make  believe." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  am  qualified  to  speak  for 
my  sex,"  he  said  drily  ;  "  but  it  seems  to  me  that  what 
I  have  always  cared  most  about  in  young  girls  is 
that  they  should  be  pleasant  and  unselfconscious, 
and  take  life  simply.  When  you  come  to  think  of  it, 
there  are  more  ways  than  one  even  of  suppressing 
people." 

He  looked  up  with  his  comical  smile,  and  saw 
that  he  had  said  enough.  Indeed  she  winced  so  per- 
ceptibly that  he  thought  she  was  offended.  Well, 
what  then  ?  She  had  laid  herself  open  to  it,  and  he 
was  not  going  to  retract.  If  she  declined  to  com- 
pete with  other  girls,  she  must  not  expect  pretty 
speeches. 

She  looked  out  over  the  sea  for  a  minute  or  two, 
deliberately  measuring  the  meaning  of  his  words,  de- 
liberately trampling  underfoot  the  pride  and  resent- 
ment and  shyness,  which  stretched  like  a  prickly 
undergrowth  across  her  path.  Then  she  turned  to 
him  with  a  smile,  a  smile  that  almost  startled  him 
with  its  half  unconscious  revelation  of  her  mood. 

It  was  not  distinctively  a  woman's  smile ;  still  less 
was  it  that  of  a  child.    It  was  the  smile  of  a  comrade 


170 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


who  frankly  accepts  a  helping  hand,  and,  by  its  aid, 
climbs  to  a  higher  level. 

Now  Ned  had  not  intended  to  proffer  any  helping 
hand ;  it  was  not  in  his  nature  under  any  circum- 
stances to  pose  as  a  moral  guide  or  preceptor  ;  he 
had  simply  given  natural  expression  to  a  mood  that 
was  half  amusement,  half  irritation.  It  was  some- 
thing quite  new  to  have  his  random  utterances  taken 
au  grand  serieux  in  this  fashion,  and  he  did  not  alto- 
gether like  it.  It  savoured  too  much  of  what  he 
was  wont  scornfully  to  characterize  as  '*  soul-out- 
pourings." 

However,  to  do  the  child  justice,  she  had  not 
spoken  ;  she  had  merely  smiled  ;  and  perhaps  it  was 
not  her  fault  if  her  smile  spoke  more  plainly  than 
words.  So  he  adjusted  his  estimate  of  her  once 
more,  and  —  remarked  that  the  weather  was  im- 
proving. 

"  Those  two  seem  to  be  getting  on,  don't  they  ?" 
said  one  of  the  passengers.  "  Scarcely  a  case  of  '  birds 
of  a  feather'  either." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Brown  placidly.  "  She's 
not  such  a  fool  as  she  looks.  She  said  something 
about  butter-scotch  this  morning  that  was  really 
rather  clever.  I  have  made  a  note  of  it  for  my  own 
use  in  future." 

"  Butter-scotch?" 

"  Yes  ;  and  that  reminds  me  I  have  left  my  cara- 
mels in  the  saloon.     Do  you  mind  fetching  them  ? " 

She  fastened  an  unnecessary  eyeglass  on  her  tip- 
tilted  nose,  and  looked  across  at  Ned  and  his  friend. 


THE  STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP. 


171 


"So  that's  the  girl  who  doesn't  care  what  men 
think  of  her  !  I  wonder  what  they  are  talking 
about?" 

She  pricked  up  her  ears  to  listen,  but  the  conver- 
sation was  dead.  Sturdy  had  killed  it,  as  earnest 
young  women  will  at  times,  by  becoming  too  pain- 
fully personal.  She  longed  to  return  to  their  former 
easy  and  pleasant  footing,  and  was  too  young  to 
realize  that  for  the  moment  she  had  made  that  im- 
possible. Her  best  move  now  was  simply  to  go 
away,  but  of  course  she  did  not  know  that. 

Fortunately  just  at  this  moment  a  spoilt  little  boy 
on  board  came  to  the  conclusion  that  life  was  not 
worth  living  unless  he  was  allowed  to  catch  fish  over 
the  bulwarks ;  and,  having  received  the  requisite  per- 
mission, he  proceeded,  as  was  natural,  to  catch  a  pas- 
senger instead. 

"  It's  well  for  you  that  that  infernal  machine  of 
yours  didn't  chance  to  take  hold  of  my  gills,  young 
man,"  Ned  said  good-humouredly,  but,  before  he  had 
extracted  the  hook  from  his  coat-sleeve,  the  boy's 
mother  came  up  to  apologize. 

She  was  not  beautiful,  and  she  was  still  looking 
pale  and  weak  after  a  violent  attack  of  sea-sickness ; 
but,  from  the  moment  she  appeared  on  deck,  she 
seemed  in  some  unconscious  indescribable  way  to 
raise  the  whole  social  standard  of  the  little  com- 
pany. Sturdy's  crudities  became  more  manifest; 
Miss  Brown's  ill-breeding  more  intolerable.  Even 
the  men  who  were  out  of  earshot  became  more  care- 
ful of  their  words,  as  they  watched  her  sitting 
there,  and  one  and  another  strolled  past  on  the 
12 


J ^2  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

chance  of  being  able  to  render  her  some  trifling 
service. 

The  lady  chaffed  her  little  boy  for  his  clumsiness, 
and  addressed  a  few  remarks  to  Ned  with  the  easy 
assurance  of  an  attractive  woman  whose  position  in 
life  is  indisputable,  and  to  whom  the  homage  of  men 
is  as  much  a  matter  of  course  as  the  air  she  breathes. 
She  might  have  struck  a  still  higher  note,  perhaps, 
if  she  had  included  Ned's  little  companion — who  so 
obviously  belonged  to  a  different  social  class — in 
her  casual  remarks;  but  her  omission  to  do  so 
seemed  to  the  girl  herself  perfectly  natural  and 
fitting. 

"  I  think— I  have  a  letter  to  write,"  said  the  latter 
awkwardly  to  Ned.     "  Good— good-night !  " 

She  wrote  her  letter  dutifully  and  then  dropped 
her  head  on  her  arms. 

"Oh,"  she  moaned,  ''what  a  teacher  I  should 
make  if  I  looked  and  spoke  like  that !  How  quiet 
she  is — how  graceful — how  "  (poor  Sturdy  !) — "  how 
ladylike  !  And  I — oh,  dear  God,  what  a  clodhopper 
I  am ! " 

And  Ned,  conversing  placidly  with  his  new  com- 
panion, did  not  ask  her  whether  she  had  ever  heard 
of  Lessing.  He  took  her  for  what  she  was  and  found 
her  very  restful  and  soothing.  When  she  had  gone 
away  and  left  his  thoughts  free  to  revert  to  his 
friend  of  the  morning,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
philosophically. 

"It  would  ill  become  an  old  bellows-mender  like 
me,"  he  said,  "  to  find  fault  with  girls  for  doing  men's 
work  ;  but  if  the  woman  of  the  future  really  means 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


173 


to  live  at  that  pressure,  who  on  earth  is  to  keep  us 
all  sane  ? " 

He  seated  himself  at  the  saloon-table,  and  open- 
ing the  heavy  leathern  writing-book,  he  saw  to  his 
surprise  the  modest  grey  cover  of  the  Erziehung. 

"  Hallo  !  "  he  said,  "  she  must  have  fallen  asleep  !  " 
and,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the  book,  he  tried  to 
recognize  his  favourite  passages.  Presently  he  came 
upon  some  pencil  jottings  on  the  fly-leaf  at  the  end, 
and  turned  to  them  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  little 
fresh  light, — 

"  Surely,  surely,  if  God  ever  began  to  educate  the 
human  race,  he  is  educating  it  still ;  and  great  and 
noble  men  and  women,  such  as  Huxley  and  Darwin 
and  Harriet  Martineau,  are  not  thwarting  his  pur- 
poses, but  working  them  out.  We  have  been  grad- 
ually taught — Lessing  tells  us — to  believe  in  the  one- 
ness of  God,  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul ;  and  if 
we  are  learning  now  that  the  earth  is  the  Lord's  it  is 
due  more  to  science  than  to  anything  else.  .  .  .  Sci- 
ence, Art,  Religion — are  not  these  just  the  colours 
that  the  prism  casts  on  the  wall  ?  and,  as  all  these 
colours  must  be  blended  to  produce  the  kindly  light 
— so,  surely,  science,  art,  religion — all  the  bits  of 
thought  and  work  and  insight  man  has  heaped  to- 
gether— are  but  broken  lights  of  God." 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  panorama 
of  varying  expression  that  passed  over  Ned's  face  as 
he  read.  But,  as  he  finished,  the  habitual  look  of 
quiet  philosophic  amusement  had  settled  down  again. 

"  Huxley  and  Darwin,  and  Harriet  Martineau  !  " 
he  ejaculated.     "  These  be  thy  Gods,  O  Israel  ? " 


174  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

Then  he  read  the  pencilled  lines  again. 

"Art!"  he  said.  "And  what  do  you  know  of 
art,  my  child,  when  it  ceases  to  illustrate  The  Pil- 
grim's Progress  i  I  will  lay  my  first  groschen  that 
your  favourite  picture  is  The  Man  with  the  Muck- 
rake !  " 

Half  an  hour  later,  when  he  carefully  stowed  his 
long  Umbs  into  the  confines  of  his  berth,  some  lines 
of  poetry  glimmered  tantalizingly  just  out  of  reach 
of  his  memory.  In  the  midst  of  the  effort  either  to 
remember  or  forget  them  he  fell  asleep ;  but  he  woke 
a  few  hours  later  to  find  the  stanza  floating  free  on 
the  surface  of  his  mind  : — 

"  *  Give  strenuous  souls  for  belief  and  prayer !' 
Said  the  South  to  the  North, 
'  Who  stand  in  the  dark  on  the  lowest  stair. 
While  affirming  of  God,  He  is  certainly  there,' 
Said  the  South  to  the  North." 


VI. 

I  would  have  you  be  .  .  .  like  a  fire  well-kindled,  which 
catches  at  everything  you  throw  in  and  turns  it  into  flame  and 
brightness. — Marcus  Aurelius. 

It  was  a  grey  November  morning,  and  Ned  was 
standing  in  front  of  the  Conservatorium,  chatting  to 
one  of  the  professors. 

A  knot  of  men  students  in  queer  little  round  felt 
hats  lounged  on  the  door-step,  discussing  the  merits 
of  a  new  contralto  who  had  made  her  first  appear^ 
ance  in  the  Opera  House  the  night  before ;  and  from 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


175 


time  to  time  a  young  woman  passed  in  or  out,  looking 
anxious  or  indifferent,  depressed  or  elated,  as  the 
case  might  be. 

Presently  a  girl  came  out  with  a  quick,  firm,  un- 
selfconscious  step.  She  looked  neither  depressed 
nor  elated,  but  her  whole  expression  was  a  study  of 
eager  vitality.  Ned  declared  afterwards  that  he 
would  have  recognized  her  in  the  wilds  of  Arabia 
simply  by  the  way  in  which  she  grasped  her  cum- 
brous old-fashioned  portfolio. 

Her  face  rippled  into  a,  radiant  smile  when  she 
met  his  eye ;  and  the  two  men  lifted  their  hats  with 
a  common  impulse. 

**  Do  you  know  Ihe  English  Meess  ? "  asked  the 
professor. 

"  I  crossed  with  her  on  the  steamer.  I  forget  her 
name." 

"Meess  Dunbar.     She  is  my  best  pupil." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Ned,  startled  out  of  his  mood 
of  lazy  indifference. 

"  Dock  !  "  said  the  professor  doggedly.  "  She  is 
no  Englishwoman.  Your  English  ladies  breakfast  at 
noon,  and  cannot  have  a  lesson  till  two  ;  but  she — 
she  comes  before  eight  every  morning,  and  she  is  of 
a  perseverance — no  !  " 

"  Oh,  no  doubt.  That  I  can  well  believe.  But  all 
that  does  not  make  her  musical." 

"  Musical !  "  repeated  the  professor  contemptu- 
ously. "Your  musical  English  ladies  think  they 
know  more  than  we  do.  Miss  Dunbar  has  not  got 
to  musk  yet.  She  could  do  nothing  for  it  that  she 
was  trained  in  England.     Of  course  she  came  to  me 


1^6  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

and  played  some  absurd  piece — Weber's  Perpetuum 
Mobile!''  He  chuckled  at  the  recollection.  "  I  let 
her  play  two  lines,  and  then  I  throw  it  aside.  '  That,' 
I  exclaim,  *is  mere  illusion.  It  were  better  you  had 
never  learnt  the  piano  ! '  " 

"  To  which  she  ? " 

"  She  regards  me  with  a  smile.  *  I  know,'  she 
says  quite  simply,  '  I  have  come  to  you  to  learn  it 
now.'  '  Good  ! '  said  I.  '  You  put  yourself  in  my 
hands.  It  will  be  three  months  before  you  play  an- 
other piece.'  But  I  was  wrong.  At  the  end  of  six 
weeks  Miss  Dunbar  had  a  touch!  Ah,  but  she  is  per- 
severing, industrious !  " 

He  turned  away  as  he  spoke,  and  Ned  looked 
after  him  with  mingled  envy  and  contempt, — envy 
of  a  man  who  had  mastered  technique,  contempt  for 
one  who  could  attach  to  it  so  disproportionate  a 
value. 

From  time  to  time  in  the  months  that  had  elapsed 
Ned's  thoughts  had  drifted  back  to  his  sturdy  little 
friend,  and  he  had  wondered,  without  any  definite 
desire  to  renew  the  acquaintance,  whether  their  paths 
would  cross  again.  But  now  he  found  himself  swing- 
ing along  at  a  very  creditable  pace,  with  a  keen  look- 
out ahead  in  the  direction  she  had  taken.  There 
seemed  little  chance  of  his  overtaking  her  in 
these  busy  thoroughfares,  and  it  was  with  some 
surprise  and  a  gcod  deal  of  amusement  that  he 
saw  her  at  last  looking  into  the  window  of  a 
large  Conditorei,  with  a  lean  purse  in  her  uncertain 
hands. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand,  and  assum- 


THE    STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


177 


ing  his  most  fatherly  air,  "  how  goes  the  human  race  ? 
— '  still  in  the  go-cart '  ? " 

She  started  as  if  she  had  been  caught  red-handed 
in  a  crime.  "  I  don't  know,"  she  stammered  con- 
fusedly :  then,  recovering  her  wits, — "  I  hope  the 
whole  is  progressing  better  than  this  poor  little 
unit." 

"  Oh,  come !  I  have  just  been  hearing  great 
things  of  you." 

"  From  Herr  Waldstein  ? "  Her  face  beamed  and 
crimsoned  with  pleasure.  She  longed  to  know  just 
what  her  teacher  had  said  ;  but  was  too  shy  and  proud 
to  ask ;  and  indeed  Ned  would  not  have  thought  it 
right  to  tell  her.  "  She  would  never  see  the  remark 
in  its  true  proportion,"  he  thought.  "Art  for  her  is 
nothing  but  technique  just  now." 

She  turned  to  leave  the  window;  but  he  held 
back. 

"  Don't  let  me  interrupt  you,"  he  said,  with  the 
old,  wide-eyed  smile.  "  I  would  not  interfere  with 
the  commissariat  for  the  world." 

She  winced  again,  and  then,  with  a  sudden  lumin- 
ous recollection,  bethought  herself  of  what  he  had 
said  about  taking  life  simply. 

"  I  am  awfully  hungry,"  she  said  bravely.  "You 
see,  I  have  to  breakfast  at  seven  on  my  music  days, 
and  they  only  send  me  up  one  Brodchen." 

"  Poor  little  starved  thing!     Let  us  go  in." 

But  she  shut  the  shabby  purse  resolutely  with  a 
snap. 

"■  No,"  she  said  firmly,  "  I  can't  afford  it,  and  it  is 
a  bad  habit  to  get  into.     It  is  yielding  to  the  flesh. 


178 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


In  fact " — she  blushed — "  I  votved  I  wouldn't  spend 
my  money  like  that." 

"  Don't  you  find  it  rather  exhausting  to  bring 
such  mighty  principles  to  bear  on  such  trifling 
affairs  ? " 

"  They  are  not  trifling  to  me,"  she  said  apologet- 
ically ;  "  or  rather,  they  are  all  the  more  important 
because  they  are  trifling.  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
expect  the  human  race  to  grow  any  better  if  I  give 
way  to  a  little  temptation  like  that.  Besides  " — she 
paused — "  two  of  those  cakes  would  pay  for  a  Bilse 
concert." 

"But  I  am  awfully  hungry  too,"  he  said  men- 
daciously. "I  was  just  wishing  I  could  find  some- 
one to  drink  a  cup  of  chocolate  with  me ;  and  you 
and  I  have  two  whole  months  of  experiences  to 
discuss.  Come !  Your  vow  does  not  cover  deeds  of 
necessity  and  mercy.  Look  at  those  Windbeutel 
and  Apfelkuchen.  They  are  just  yearning  for  ap- 
preciation." 

Vanity  was  not  one  of  Ned's  faults,  and,  least  of 
all,  vanity  where  women  were  concerned ;  but  she 
had  made  no  secret  of  her  pleasure  in  his  society, 
and  he  could  have  guessed  which  way  her  inclina- 
tions pointed,  even  if  her  face  had  not  borne  pa- 
thetic witness  to  the  effort  it  cost  her  to  be  true 
to  the  traditions  of  a  narrow  upbringing  and  an 
unlovely  girlhood. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said  ungraciously,  as  she  turned  to 
walk  on.  "  I  mean — don't  let  me  keep  you ;  but  I 
am  not  really  hungry,  you  know ;  and  I  ought  to  be 
at  my  practising  place  by  now." 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


179 


"  Don't  you  practise  at  your  diggings  ? " 

"  No.  There  are  far  too  many  of  us.  I  go  to  the 
wareroom  of  a  small  manufacturer." 

"Straight  from  the  Conservatorium  ?" 

"  Oh  yes !  "  she  laughed  shyly.  "  Sometimes  I  run 
most  of  the  way,  in  case  I  should  forget  some  of  the 
things  Herr  Waldstein  has  told  me." 

"  By  Jove  !  I  don't  wonder  he  is  delighted  with 
his  pupil." 

"  I  am  delighted  with  my  teacher,"  she  answered 
eagerly.  "  It  is  an  inspiration  to  have  lessons  from 
him." 

"Whew!"  He  raised  his  eyebrows.  "Inspira- 
tion is  a  big  word.  Waldstein's  technique  is  first- 
rate.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  German  school  is 
crushed  to  earth  by  the  weight  of  its  technique  just 
now." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ? "  she  asked  surprised,  as  if 
the  idea  were  quite  a  new  one.  "  I  am  not  in  a  posi- 
tion to  say.  I  think  one  must  master  technique  be- 
fore one  can  judge  of  its  value." 

The  blue  eyes  dilated  with  a  humourous  smile. 
"  That  is  severe.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  a 
tremendous  sell  to  spend  years  in  drudgery,  and  then 
wake  up  to  find  you  have  simply  been  walling  in  *  the 
nothing  you  set  out  from.'  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  absently ; — "  I  wish  you  had 
been  at  my  lesson  this  morning.  I  had  practised 
one  of  Mendelssohn's  Lieder ;  but,  although  I  knew 
the  notes,  I  hadn't  grasped  the  idea  a  bit.  Herr 
Waldstein  let  me  plunge  right  through  to  the  end, 
and  disgrace  myself  hopelessly  before  the  two  other 


l8o  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

Students;  and  then,  without  a  word,  he  played  the 
treble  alone  on  his  own  piano.  It  was  a  revelation 
to  hear  how  he  brought  out  air  and  accompaniment 
both  in  the  right-hand  part, — sustained  singing 
notes  above,  and  crisp  chords  below.  It  was  won- 
derful." 

"No  doubt,"  said  Ned,  smiling;  "but  I  suppose 
there  have  been  one  or  two  fellows  since  Men- 
delssohn, who  could  have  done  as  much  for 
you." 

She  had  been  "  standing  up  to  him  "  so  well  that 
he  expected  a  frank  retort ;  but  she  collapsed  into 
one  of  the  odd  fits  of  humility,  which  always  made 
him  feel  himself  a  brute. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said  awkwardly.  "  I  forgot  how 
widely  your  standpoint  differs  from  mine." 

"As  widely  as  the  standpoint  of  the  onlooker 
differs  from  that  of  the  genuine  worker." 

"  Yes,"  she  responded  sadly.  "  You  are  on  a 
vantage-ground,  surveying  the  building  as  a  whole; 
v^hile  I  am  studying — the  grain  of  the  stones  in  the 
porch." 

He  turned  to  look  at  her  with  frank  admiration 
for  an  appreciative  metaphor,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
it  struck  him  that  the  plum-coloured  gown  had  given 
place  to  one  of  shaggy  homespun  which  was  quaintly 
becoming  to  her  independent  figure.  Her  face,  too, 
was  different.  Its  curves  were  less  childlike  than 
they  had  been  two  months  ago,  and  there  was 
almost  a  touch  of  chic  in  the  poise  of  the  resolute 
chin. 

"What   splendid   use  you   are   making  of   your 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  igj 

time  !  "  he  said  with  a  pang  of  envy.     "  You  look  as 
if  you  lived  on  live  birds." 

She  laughed  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Nothing  so  recognizable,"  she  said  ;  "and,  oh,  I 
haven't  done  one-third  of  what  I  planned  to  do  in 
the  time." 

"One-third!  I  call  that  brilliant.  When  I  used 
to  make  plans,  I  never  accomplished  more  than  .oox 
of  the  original  design." 

"And  X  equalled  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Oh,  x  was  so  far 
from  the  decimal  point  that  the  equation  wasn't 
worth  working  out." 

"  Poor  Algebra !  "  she  said,  "  that  knows  no  equal- 
ity, only  quantity;"  and  then  she  was  ashamed  of 
being  too  clever.  "Are  you  studying  music  now?" 
she  asked  shyly. 

"  Not  at  the  Conservatorium.  I  am  scraping 
away  at  the  cello  a  bit,  and  dipping  into  harmony, 
and — frequenting  the  opera.     Fine  house,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  been  inside  it  yet.  Oh,  I  mean  to  go. 
I  want  to  hear  both  Lohengrin  and  Tannhduser  ;  but 
I  should  like  to  learn  a  great  deal  more  first.  This 
is  my — destination." 

Her  eyes  expressed  a  doubtful  invitation,  and  he 
followed  her  with  rising  curiosity  through  a  squalid 
doorway  into  what  appeared  to  be  the  living-room 
of  a  large  family.  The  atmosphere  was  close  and 
offensive ;  food,  cooking  utensils,  and  unwashed 
dishes  lay  about  in  hopeless  confusion  ;  and  three 
or  four  dirty  children  were  clamouring  for  the  bread 
which  a  slatternly  mother  cut  from  a  long  brown 


1 82  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

loaf  held  against  her  breast.  The  whole  scene 
struck  Ned  as  being  a  hideous  travesty  of  the  well- 
known  picture  of  Werther's  first  meeting  with 
Lotte. 

"  Guten  Tag ! "  said  Miss  Dunbar  pleasantly. 
"  £in  englischer  Ilerr  ist  heute  mitgekommen." 

"  Ach  so  !  "  replied  the  woman,  bowing ;  and  she 
hastened  to  add  with  an  eye  to  business,  '■'■Vielleicht 
mochte  der  Herr  die  Clavier e  probiren." 

"  Oh  j'a^  gewiss."  Ned's  answer  came  rather 
stiltedly,  and  he  felt  an  uncomfortable  sense  of  his 
companion's  superior  fluency  in  speaking  the  lan- 
guage. 

The  girl  hastily  led  the  way  through  a  door  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  room  into  a  dreary  best  par- 
lour; and  thence  into  the  wareroom,  where  some 
eight  or  ten  cheap  and  showy  pianos  stood  awaiting 
a  purchaser, 

Ned  laid  his  hand  against  the  ice-cold  tiles  of  the 
stove,  and  thought  of  his  own  pleasant  sitting-room 
overlooking  the  Thiergarten. 

"Your  surroundings  are  picturesque  in  a  broad 
sense,  certainly,"  he  said ;  "  and  the  local  colour  of 
your  home  letters  must  be  excellent.  How  many 
hours  a-day  do  you  spend  in  your — barracks?" 

"  Five  as  a  rule.     Sometimes  more." 

"  And  is  the  stove  never  lighted  ? " 

"  No.     The  room  is  very  dry." 

He  sat  down  and  struck  a  few  chords.  "  Jove  ! 
The  tone  isn't  half  bad.  And  now  you  are  going 
to  initiate  me  into  the  true  inwardness  of  Mendels- 
sohn." 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


183 


She  looked  at  him.  "  I  wonder,"  she  said  slowly, 
"  whether  I  shall  ever  learn  not  to  make  a  fool  of 
myself." 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear.  His  long  fingers  were 
producing  some  fine  arpeggios  from  the  cheap  in- 
strument. Then  he  rose  languidly  from  his  chair, 
his  fair  face  devoid  of  all  expression. 

"  I  have  never  had  much  sympathy,"  he  said, 
"  with  the  morbid  desire  to  appear  wiser  than  one  is. 
It  is  too  much  fag,  for  one  thing.  Let  the  world 
call  me  a  fool  and  be  done  with  it !  When  you  come 
to  think  of  it,  the  desire  is  just  a  bit  of  intellectual 
or  moral  vulgarity,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Her  face  was  very  grave.  "  I  don't  think  I  quite 
know  what  you  mean  by  vulgarity." 

He  laughed.  "  Rather  a  fundamental  hitch 
that.  Vulgarity,  to  my  mind,  is  veneer, — want  of 
simplicity." 

She  nodded  slowly.  "  Did  you  ever  think  how 
much  easier  it  is  to  be  simple,  as  you  call  it,  when 
all  the  conditions  of  your  life  are  beautiful  in  them- 
selves ?  If  my  life  was  furnished  with  oak,  I  should 
have  no  use  for  veneer." 

"And  if  my  life  was  furnished  in  deal,  I  should 
be  content  to  keep  it  well  scoured.  I  should  not 
pretend  it  was  oak." 

Her  face  flashed  into  sunshine.  "  That  is  self- 
evident,"  she  cried,  "  when  you  put  it  so ;  and  yet 
I  believe  I  have  been  groping  blindly  after  it  for 
years." 

"  Then  I  am  sure  you  have  been  very  near  it 
sometimes,"   he   answered    half    abashed, — "nearer 


l84  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

than  most  of  us  perhaps.  And  now  no  doubt  you 
are  longing  to  turn  me  out.     Good-bye." 

Later  in  the  day  he  made  his  way  to  a  house  in 
a  very  different  part  of  the  town,  and  was  duly 
ushered  into  a  comfortable  English  drawing-room. 
A  graceful  woman  lounged  idly  in  an  arm-chair  by 
the  fire. 

"  That's  right,"  she  said  languidly,  holding  out  a 
pretty  white  hand.  **  I  haven't  seen  you  for  a  fort- 
night, and  to-day  I  am  bored  to  extinction.  Sit 
down,  and  tell  me  what  you  are  doing  with  your- 
self." 

He  looked  round  the  room  with  an  amused  smile. 
"  I  have  just  been  making  a  call,"  he  said,  "■  in  a 
very  different  drawing-room  from  this.  Do  you  re- 
member the  bright  little  girl  with  the  tawny  hair  who 
crossed  with  us  to  Germany?"  And  he  drew  a 
highly-coloured  picture  of  dogged  little  Sturdy  in 
her  odd  surroundings. 

The  lady  laughed  and  stifled  a  yawn. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  she  said,  "  you  are  good  to 
that  child.  Don't  you  realize  that  you  are  turning 
her  head  ? " 

He  looked  down  thoughtfully  at  his  unfashion- 
able hat.  *'  It  wouldn't  be  a  very  easy  thing  to  do," 
he  said.  *'  I  don't  think  you  quite  understand  her. 
She  is  not  an  English  rose,  I  admit ;  but  I  am  greatly 
mistaken  if  she  is  not  a  regular  young  oak-tree. — I'll 
have  one  more  quarrel  with  fortune  if  she  doesn't 
get  space  to  grow." 

He  walked  over  to  the  English  fireplace,  and 
turned   his  back  to  the  cheerful   blaze.     "  Do  you 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


•185 


know,"  he  said, — "  if  I  were  a  woman — I  should 
think  it  a  thing  worth  doing  to  give  a  little  girl  like 
that  a  chance.  She  is  the  most  receptive  creature  I 
ever  met." 

The  lady's  laugh  had  a  ring  of  annoyance  in  it. 
"Really,  Mr.  Beresford,"  she  cried,  "you  are  impay- 
able  1  By  the  way,  what  did  you  think  of  the  new 
contralto  ?  She  sang  flat  once  or  twice ;  but,  apart 
from  that,  her  voice  seemed  to  me  perfectly  gor- 
geous." 

VII. 

"  There's  a  lot  of  liver  left  over  from  dinner  to- 
day," said  Pauline,  the  maid  of  all  work. 

"  Well,  God  knows  I  am  glad  to  hear  it !  "  was 
Fraulein's  reply.  "We'll  use  it  for  supper  to-night. 
The  girls  have  been  eating  the  very  hair  off  my  head 
lately." 

Sturdy  slipped  past  the  kitchen  door  unobserved, 
and,  frowning,  ran  down  the  long  stair. 

How  petty  it  all  was!  Must  one  really  die  and 
be  buried  before  one  could  escape  from  the  sordid 
groundwork  of  life  ?  Germany  had  seemed  so  ideal, 
so  romantic,  before  she  came, — all  music  and  art, 
and  literature,  and  development ; — and,  now  that  she 
was  here,  the  shoe  pinched  just  the  same. 

She  was  genuinely  sorry  for  Fraulein's  worries, 
and  she  understood  only  too  well  the  look  of  pa- 
thetic anxiety  that  followed  the  course  of  the  dish 
round  the  circle  of  growing  girls;  she  never  asked 
for  a  second  helping  without  feeling  herself  a  brute ; 


1 86  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

but  healthy,  hungry  youth  would  assert  itself  in  spite 
of  the  most  heroic  resolutions. 

Ah!  Life  seemed  brighter  now  that  she  had 
reached  the  keen  frosty  air.  The  last  brown  leaves 
had  fallen  from  the  trees  in  the  square,  and  the 
winter  evening  was  darkening  fast.  Thank  God  for 
her  music,  her  work,  her  dreams !  Poor,  poor  Frau- 
lein  ! 

The  girl  drew  her  shabby  cloak  more  closely 
round  her,  and  sped  like  a  hare  through  the  unfash- 
ionable streets.  Vita  brevis,  ars  longa ;  and,  quite 
apart  from  that,  it  was  desirable  to  lay  up  a 
store  of  animal  heat  before  facing  the  chilly  "  bar- 
racks." 

The  wareroom  looked  bare  and  desolate,  and  the 
pianos  cast  great  shadows  on  the  whitewashed  walls, 
as  she  trimmed  her  ill-smelling  lamp  by  the  light  of 
a  succession  of  matches.  These  little  discomforts 
were  nothing  to  complain  of,  but  unfortunately  one 
of  the  pianos  had  been  moved  into  the  best  parlour 
for  the  benefit  of  another  student,  and  Sturdy  now 
had  to  practice  her  simple  studies  as  best  she  might, 
counting  aloud  to  drown  the  crashing  chords  that  re- 
sounded through  the  wall. 

"One,  two,  three,  four.  One,  two,  and  three, 
four!"  till  her  fingers  grew  stiff  and  her  voice  grew 
weary. 

Suddenly  the  volley  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wall  ceased,  and  the  door  between  the  two  rooms 
opened. 

^*Gott!"  ejaculated  a  fair-haired  German  girl. 
"  Didn't  you  know  your  lamp  was  smoking  ?" 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


187 


Sturdy  slipped  from  her  chair  and  turned  down 
the  flame.  "  No,"  she  said  simply,  **  I  hadn't  no- 
ticed." 

"  Gott!"  exclaimed  the  girl  again,  with  a  look  of 
genuine  commiseration  for  the  kleine  Engldnderin, 
whose  perseverance  was  so  sadly  out  of  proportion 
to  her  talent.  "  You  may  have  my  room  now  if  you 
like.  I  must  hurry  home  to  supper.  We  are  going 
to  the  opera  to-night." 

Sturdy  looked  up  with  more  of  reverence  than  of 
envy  for  a  mortal  so  highly  favoured. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  she  said  humbly. 

She  felt  the  unspoken  pity  keenly,  and  recognized 
the  justice  of  it.  Would  it  end  in  nothing  after  all, 
this  visit  to  Germany,  of  which  she  had  hoped  so 
much  ? 

Well,  she  was  in  for  it  now,  and  must  make  the 
best  of  it.  Work  was  the  cure  for  this  mood.  To 
work,  to  work ! 

"  One,  two,  three,  four.  One,  two,  and  three, 
four !  " 

It  was  thus  that  Ned  found  her  when,  attired  in  a 
great  fur-lined  coat,  he  dropped  into  the  barracks  an 
hour  or  two  later. 

"  Miss  Dunbar,"  he  said  abruptly,  "  I  want  you 
to  go  with  me  to  Lohengrin  to-morrow  night.  I 
have  two  seats,  and  the  other  fellow  can't  go." 

If  he  had  broached   the  subject  gradually,  she 
would    probably    have    refused.     As    it    was,    she 
sprang  to   her  feet  with  a  spontaneity  that  would 
have  given  valuable  hints  to  a  stage  ingenue. 
13 


1 88  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

**  Really  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Really  ?  Oh  how  good 
of  you  to  think  of  me  !  " 

The  sunshine  in  her  face  seemed  to  brighten  the 
whole  dreary  room.  Ned  felt  like  a  schoolboy  on 
the  eve  of  a  spree. 

"  These  things  begin  absurdly  early  here,"  he  said 
apologetically.  "I  am  afraid  you  will  miss  your 
supper;  but  we'll  pick  up  a  bite  somewhere."  He 
thought  it  judicious  to  pass  lightly  over  this  part  of 
the  programme.  "  Shall  I  call  for  you  here — or  at 
your  lodgings  ? "  He  added  the  alternative  doubt- 
fully, with  a  man's  natural  reluctance  to  face  a  posse 
of  women  when  he  only  wants  to  see  one. 

"Oh,  don't  trouble  to  call.  I'll  meet  you  at  the 
place." 

"  No,  no  !  " 

"  Then  come  here.     I'll  be  ready,  never  fear  !  " 

"All  right!  Say  half-past  five.  I  suppose  you'll 
have  to  take  your  hat  off," — he  smiled  at  the  novel 
experience  of  giving  a  woman  instructions  in  such  a 
matter, — "but  you  don't  need  to  dress." 

She  went  with  him  to  the  door,  and  then,  throw- 
ing on  her  old  cloak,  ran  home  like  the  wind. 

"  Girls,"  she  cried,  bursting  into  the  room  where 
the  boarders  sat  over  their  books,  impatiently  await- 
ing the  call  to  supper,  "  I  am  going  to  the  opera  to- 
morrow ! " 

"  Nein  !  " 

''Mein  Gott!" 

"  Du  lieber  Himmel !  " 

"  Quite  right,  too ! "  said  a  sprightly  large-eyed 
French  girl.     "You  have  worked  like  a  hero,  Mis- 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


189 


schen,  and  you  have  scarcely  so  much  as  been  to  a 
Bilse  concert.     Who  are  you  going  with  ? " 

Sturdy  set  her  lips. 

"A  friend,"  she  said,  **an  English  gentleman." 

"  That  is  charming.     Where  are  the  seats  ? " 

"Well,  naturally  I  didn't  ask." 

"  But  you  will  wear  your  velvet  dress,  in  any 
case  ? " 

"  No.  I  shouldn't  think  so.  I  hadn't  thought 
of  it." 

But  this  folly  was  overruled  in  a  moment. 

"  Nonsense,  Misschen  !  " 

"  And  it  is  so  becoming !  " 

"  You  are  stupid !  What  do  you  suppose  you 
have  got  a  pretty  dress  for?" 

"And  you  will  let  me  do  your  hair?"  said  the 
French  girl  coaxingly.  "You  mustn't  drag  it  back 
like  that.  I'll  make  it  a  little  fluffy  in  front,  and 
twist  it  into  a  simple  Greek  knot  behind.  You  will 
look  perfectly  charming." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  Ned's  companion  at 
the  opera  the  following  evening  was  one  of  whom 
no  man  need  have  been  ashamed.  The  quaintly-cut 
gown  of  deep  Gobelin  blue  had  been  chosen  by  her 
schoolmistress  in  London,  and  was  the  one  garment 
poor  Sturdy  had  ever  possessed  which  made  any 
pretensions  to  beauty.  Happy  accident,  or  the  re- 
straining influence  of  her  French  friend,  had  pre- 
vented her  from  adding  any  jarring  note  in  the 
shape  of  ribbon  or  cheap  jewellery;  and  her  whole 
expression  and  bearing  were  so   transfigured  with 


190 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


happiness  and  excitement  as  to  form  a  fruitful  sub- 
ject for  conversation  among  the  boarders  during  the 
evening.  They  had  often  found  her  neidlich,  they 
agreed;  but  to-night  she  was  really  charming. 

And,  indeed,  no  ordinary  girl,  whose  life  contains 
its  due  sequence  of  pleasures,  can  form  the  least  con- 
ception of  the  intense  capacity,  the  fierce  thirst  for 
enjoyment,  which  Sturdy  carried  with  her,  when,  with 
beating  heart,  she  ran  down  the  long  dimly-lighted 
stair.  No  wonder  her  face  was  a  poem ;  no  wonder 
it  suggested  to  Ned  the  rush  of  life  one  feels  all 
around  on  a  glowing  day  in  spring  after  rain.  Her 
winter  had  been  so  long,  poor  Sturdy !  In  her  wild- 
est dreams  she  had  prayed  only  for  starry  nights 
and  Alpine  peaks ;  and  now  behold — for  a  few  short 
hours — sunshine  and  morning  and  a  smiling  green 
valley  at  her  feet! 

I  must  not  attempt  to  describe  the  events  of  the 
evening  as  they  appeared  through  her  temperament. 
If  I  did,  I  might  seem  to  be  borrowing  a  page  from 
the  Arabian  Nights,  whereas  everyone  knows  the 
comfortable  cafe  where  they  supped,  and  everyone 
knows  the  bright  effective  Opera  House  as  it  looks 
on  gala  nights,  when  its  crowded  tiers  are  aglow  with 
gay  costumes  and  expectant  faces. 

The  emperor  and  empress  were  in  the  royal  box 
— ''  der  greise  Kaiser  ;"  no  one  guessed  then  in  what 
quick  succession  he  was  to  be  followed  by  ^^  der  weise 
Kaiser  "  and  "  der  Reise-Kaiser  " — and  Sturdy  found 
herself  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  under  the  same 
roof  with  royalty. 

Not  for  one  minute  through  the  long  evening  did 


THE   STORY   OF   A  FRIENDSHIP. 


191 


her  delight  and  interest  flag.  Of  course  the  opera, 
as  an  opera,  was  far  above  her  comprehension ;  and 
yet,  in  an  emotional  unconscious  way,  she  drank  it 
in  as  Wagner  meant  she  should,  yielding  up  ear,  eye 
and  soul  in  one  to  the  great  complex  whole  of  his 
creation. 

Singers  and  orchestra  surpassed  themselves  that 
night ;  Brandt  was  superb  ;  Mallinger  and  Niemann 
renewed  their  best  days.  But,  for  Sturdy,  the  or- 
chestra had  no  existence ;  the  music  came  from 
everywhere,  was  in  everything ;  Elsa  and  the  others 
were  not  opera-singers,  they  were  real, — the  only 
real  people  in  the  world  ;  and  the  whole  thing  meant, 
not  recreation  nor  amusement,  but  life, — the  distilled 
essence  of  human  life. 

At  last  the  dove  flew  off,  drawing  after  it  all  that 
had  made  the  little  world  of  Brabant  a  very  kingdom 
of  heaven ;  the  curtain  fell;  and  Sturdy  found  her- 
self back  in  the  emptying,  darkening  Opera  House, 
— back  in  the  work-a-day  world,  where  life  was  so 
complex  and  so  slow  that  one  could  not  see  its 
plan. 

She  turned  to  Ned,  her  eyes  brimming  over  with 
tears.  "  Though  I  should  live  to  be  an  old,  old 
woman,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  never  have  another  night 
like  this." 

Ned  had  enjoyed  the  evening  too,  though  in  a 
very  different  way.  It  would  be  idle  to  deny  that 
there  had  been  moments,  both  at  the  caf6  and  in  the 
Opera  House,  when  his  friendly  interest  in  his  little 
companion  had  threatened  to  develop  an  emotional 
side  which  might  have  been  all  the  more  dangerous 


192 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


because  he  considered  himself  so  entirely  proof 
against  its  advances.  It  is  difficult  to  be  absolutely 
self-contained  in  the  presence  of  such  a  redundancy 
of  throbbing  young  life.  Indeed,  if  the  girl  had 
possessed  even  the  simplest  and  most  laudable  in- 
stincts of  coquetry, — my  story  might  have  had  a 
very  different  name. 

VIII. 

When  Sturdy  awoke  at  half-past  six  next  morn- 
ing, she  felt  an  even  greater  disinclination  than  usual 
to  get  up ;  but  five  minutes  later  she  sprang  out  of 
bed  with  a  bound. 

"It  would  be  too  terrible,"  she  said, as  she  groped 
for  her  match-box  with  shaking  hands,  "if  a  great 
moral  and  mental  and  physical  treat  like  that  was  to 
make  one  less  fit  for  the  duties  of  daily  life." 

From  which  it  appears  that  even  a  superficial 
study  of  "  Huxley  and  Darwin  and  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau  "  does  not  necessarily  suffice  to  disturb  the 
original  bias  of  a  Puritanic  mind  with  the  logic  of 
natural  laws — such  as  that  of  the  Conservation  of 
Energy — in  the  spiritual  world. 

She  drew  aside  the  window-blind  and  looked  out. 
Nothing  was  visible  save  a  blurred  street-lamp,  and 
two  great  snow-flakes  melting  on  the  pane. 

"  Slush  underfoot,"  she  said  with  a  shiver.  "  That 
means  thick  boots  and  a  short  skirt." 

She  took  the  old  plum-coloured  gown  from  be- 
hind the  chintz  curtain  which  did  duty  as  a  ward- 
robe,  and    threw   it   on    the    bed ;   then,   with    her 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


193 


teeth  set  hard,  she  poured  the  ice-cold  water  from 
the  ewer. 

Washing  is  a  prolonged  operation  when  one's 
basin  is  what  in  England  would  be  designated  a 
small  pie-dish  ;  and  there  is  no  denying  that  life 
looked  very  dark  while  the  operation  lasted.  So 
dark  that  a  whole  new  crop  of  severe  moral  resolu- 
tions had  to  be  twisted  into  a  great  knot  of  sandy 
hair, — with  the  result  that  the  knot  was  tight  and 
rather  uncomfortable,  and  very  unbecoming. 

There  had  been  little  time  to  discuss  the  opera  on 
the  way  home  the  night  before,  and  it  would  probably 
have  occurred  to  most  women  that  Ned  might  look 
in  to  the  barracks  in  the  course  of  the  day,  but  such 
an  idea  never  crossed  Sturdy 's  mind;  so  when  he 
actually  arrived  about  noon,  the  consciousness  of 
her  own  plainness  and  general  commonplaceness 
marred  even  the  glad  spontaneity  of  the  greeting  to 
which  he  had  been  looking  forward.  The  sun  was 
shining  brightly  now,  and  the  streets  were  drying 
fast,  so  the  short  skirt  and  heavy  boots  had  lost  even 
such  beauty  of  fitness  as  they  had  possessed  in  the 
early  morning.  Without  any  doubt  the  glamour  of 
the  night  before  was  gone. 

Ned  was  disappointed  of  course,  and  yet  his  dis- 
appointment was  mingled  with  relief.  After  all, 
this  was  her  true  self ;  and  he  respected  her  the 
more  for  going  on  her  simple  dogged  way  quite  in- 
dependently of  him.  They  had  seemed  very  near 
for  a  little  while  the  night  before,  and  now  they 
seemed  very  far  apart.  Well,  so  much  the  better! 
How  indeed  could  it  possibly  be  otherwise  ? 


194 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


They  exchanged  a  few  conventional  sentences 
awkwardly,  at  arm's  length,  so  to  speak.  He  had 
come  with  the  full  intention  of  discussing  Lohengrin, 
but  now  he  felt  a  curious  reluctance  to  broach  the 
subject.  And  yet  he  did  not  want  to  go  away.  He 
wanted  to  throw  fresh  fuel  on  this  eager  mind,  and 
watch  it  burn.  He  wanted  to  see  what  she  would 
make  of  her  life. 

"Very  tired?"  he  asked  kindly. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  she  replied,  and  she  thought  she 
spoke  the  truth. 

"  It  was  a  real  charity  to  go  with  me  last  night. 
It  does  one  good  to  hear  the  mother  tongue  after 
this  eternal  guttural  jabber." 

"  Doesn't  it?"  she  responded  quickly;  "and  yet 
it  is  surprising  how  little  barrier  the  difference  of 
nationality  makes  after  all." 

"  No  doubt  that  is  your  experience — picking  up 
the  language  with  the  extraordinary  facility  you 
do." 

She  smiled.  She  was  used  to  compliments  on  this 
score. 

"  Do  you  know,  even  now  I  don't  follow  every 
word  of  a  sermon  unless  I  sit  quite  near  the 
preacher." 

This  gave  the  flagging  conversation  a  suggestive 
fillip. 

"What  church  do  you  go  to  ?" 

She  blushed,  unable  now  as  always  to  answer  a 
question  superficially. 

"  In  the  morning  I  go  to  please  my  people  at 
home.     Our  minister  gave  me  an  introduction.     It  is 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


195 


not  exactly  a  church.  They  meet  in  a  sort  or  school- 
room  " 

She  hesitated,  and  was  relieved  that  he  did  not 
press  the  subject.  "  In  the  evening  I  go  to  please 
myself.  I  have  heard  Herr  Prediger  Stocker  of 
course,"  —  she  smiled  —  "and  Paulus  Cassel,  and 
Hossbach " 

"  You  are  catholic  !  " 

"  One  learns  to  be,"  she  said  with  the  profound 
philosophy  of  eighteen.     "  In  the  afternoon " 

"  In  the  afternoon,  I  suppose,  you  complete  the 
epigram  and  go  to  please  your  Maker  ?  " 

'^  Im  Gegentheil ! "  she  flashed  back,  and  then 
blushed  with  shame  at  her  own  flippancy.  "  In 
the  afternoon  I  go  to  the  National  Gallery." 

*'  Well  done !  I  wish  you  would  take  me  with 
you  next  Sunday." 

"  Oh  !  "  she  cried,  "  would  you  ?  would  you  ?  It 
would  be  an  education  for  me.  I  know  so  little 
of  art.  When  the  other  pupils  at  the  studio  talk  of 
values  and  balancing  and  impressionism  and  tem- 
perament, I  feel  as  if  the  rest  of  the  world  was 
breathing  air  while  I  was  buried  alive." 

"  What  studio  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  Herr  Lulv^s'.  I  have  been  working  there  twice 
a-week  lately." 

A  look  of  profound  depression  came  over  his 
sanguine  face.  "  By  Jove!  "  he  said  drearily,  "you 
are  a  wonderful  woman."  Then,  metaphorically 
speaking,  he  gave  his  own  personality  the  con- 
temptuous kick  to  which  it  was  so  well  accustomed, 
and  returned  to  the  matter  in  hand. 


196 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  Sunday  afternoon,  then,"  he  said  cheerfully. 
"  What  time  do  you  go  ?  " 

"  Any  time,"  she  said ;  but  her  face  had  lost 
the  bright  assurance  of  a  moment  before.  "  There 
can't "     She  hesitated. 

"  There  can't  what  ?  " 

She  blushed  painfully.  "  There  can't  be  any  harm 
in  it." 

He  turned  his  great  blue  eyes  full  upon  her. 

"  What  harm  should  there  be  ?  "  he  asked  coldly 
and  innocently.     "  Does  your  landlady  object  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  She  says  I  am  so  '  ernst,'  so  unlike 
other  girls.  She  never  enquires  into  my  comings 
and  goings." 

"  Sensible  woman !  So  even  a  German  Hausfrau 
is  capable  of  flashes  of  insight.  Then  where  is  the 
difficulty  ? " 

She  looked  miserable. 

"  I  don't  see  any,"  she  said  ;  then  added  desper- 
ately, *'  it — it  isn't — customary." 

He  took  a  turn  up  and  down  the  room,  perhaps 
to  conceal  a  smile,  and  then  seated  himself  on  a 
broken-backed  chair,  languidly  crossing  his  legs. 

"  Look  here.  Miss  Dunbar,"  he  said  ;  "  I  am  old 
enough  to  be  your  father,  so  suppose  we  abjure  the 
customary  for  a  few  minutes,  and  indulge  in  a  little 
plain  speaking — just  to  clear  the  air.  You  told  me 
some  months  ago  that  you  didn't  profess  to  compete 
with  other  girls,  and  any  fellow  who  wasn't  an  ass 
could  see  that  you  spoke  the  truth.  Well,  when 
an  ever-watchful  Providence  saw  fit  to  wreck  my 
constitution  some  years  ago,  it  decreed  that  I  should 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


197 


cease  to  compete  with  other  men,  and — the  position 
suits  me  admirably.  I  haven't  a  grain  of — senti- 
ment in  my  composition.  So  you  see  we  have  one 
thing  in  common.  Each  of  us  is  at  loose  ends,  so 
to  speak,  as  regards  the  other  sex.  The  winds  and 
waves  of  life  have  thrown  our  boats  alongside  for 
a  bit,  and  in  due  time  we  shall  drift  apart  again. 
Can  you  tell  me  why,  in  the  name  of  the  height 
above  or  the  depth  beneath,  we  should  scruple  to 
extract  what  amusement  or  interest  or  benefit  we 
can  from  our  brief  companionship  ?  " 

In  the  name  of  these  mighty  things,  of  course,  the 
"customary"  sank  into  nothingness,  and  she  would 
not  have  been  herself  if  at  the  moment  she  had  even 
thought  that,  in  addition  to  the  height  above  and  the 
depth  beneath,  there  were  divers  little  craft  round 
about. 

He  rose  from  his  chair  again,  and  strode  up  and 
down  th6  room.  Even  the  events  of  last  night 
formed  a  welcome  relief  from  this. 

"  But  I  wanted  to  hear  your  opinion  of  Lohengrin" 
he  said.     "  Did  it  come  up  to  your  expectations  ? " 

"  Oh,  you  know  !  It  far  surpassed  them.  And 
yet — in  one  way  I  was  disappointed.  I  could  not 
have ///^<?^  it  better,  but  I  felt  that  I  wasn't  appreci- 
ating it.     It  was  too  big  to  get  into  my  mind." 

He  smiled,  well  pleased. 

"  Well,  if  we  can't  have  opinions,  let  us  at  least 
have  impressions.     One  can't  avoid  them." 

"  No,"  she  answered  thoughtfully.  Then  sud- 
denly she  turned  on  him, — "  Wagner  must  have  had 
a  very  low  opinion  of  women  ? " 


ipg  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

He  laughed — a  hearty  laugh  of  amusement  and 
surprise. 

"  Why  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  which  is  worse — Elsa  or  Ortrud." 

"You  don't  mean  that." 

"  I  do — at  least  I* almost  mean  it,  I  don't  believe 
one  woman  in  a  hundred  would  have  been  such  a 
fool  as  Elsa  was." 

He  raised  his  eyebrows, 

"  Do  you  mean  by  that  that  not  one  woman  in  a 
hundred  would  have  had  Elsa's  spiritual  insight?" 

She  did  not  answer.  Her  honest  face  revealed 
in  a  moment  that  he  had  taken  her  out  of  her  depth. 

He  looked  at  her  calmly.  She  was  too  clever 
and  too  independent  to  require  any  quarter,  so  he 
went  on  drily  and  relentlessly, 

"  I  don't  fancy  Wagner  intended  Lohengrin  as  a 
brochure  on  the  woman  question." 

She  coloured.  "  I  didn't  suppose  he  did,"  she 
responded  warmly,  dropping  back  at  once  into  the 
schoolgirl. 

Her  words  and  tone  jarred  on  him  indescribably, 
and  he  became  more  acutely  aware  of  her  unpre- 
possessing appearance.  Was  this  really  the  glowing 
sentient  thing  who  had  sat  by  his  side  last  night  ? 
For  the  first  time  in  their  intercourse  he  was  moved 
to  trample  on  her,  to  make  her  feel  her  own  limita- 
tions. 

"  The  reply  is  unworthy  of  your  honesty,  Miss 
Dunbar,"  he  said  coldly.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  is 
exactly  what  you  did  suppose.  What  I  meant  to 
say  was  that  Elsa  in   Wagner's   conception    is  not 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


199 


only  a  woman,  any  more  than  Lohengrin  is  only  a 
man.     She  is  a  human  soul." 

He  paused,  half  ashamed  of  his  own  priggishness, 

"And  Lohengrin  ?"  she  said  eagerly. 

*'  Is  the  spiritual  element  in  life,  I  suppose.  Elsa 
has  faith  to  see  the  invisible,  but  she  has  not  faith 
to  lean  her  whole  weight  on  it.  The  time  comes 
when  she  must  have  it  translated  into  the  tangible. 
The  problem  came  to  her  in  that  particular  form, 
but  it  comes  to  all  of  us  in  one  way  or  another;  and 
you  tell  me  that  ninety-nine  women  out  of  a  hun- 
dred have  not  only  eyes  to  see  the  invisible,  but 
faith  to  turn  their  backs  upon  the  substantial  obvi- 
ous pomps  and  vanities,  and  trust  themselves,  body 
and  soul,  to  what  in  most  moods  seems  only  a  rain- 
bow bridge." 

She  was  altogether  at  his  mercy  now  so  far  as 
the  argument  was  concerned,  but  she  had  forgotten 
everything  else  in  the  new  vista  he  opened  up. 

"  Go  on ! "  she  said,  almost  under  her  breath. 
"  Oh,  do  you  think  Lohengrin  will  soon  be  given 
again  ? " 

He  shook  off  his  rare  ill-humour  in  a  laugh. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said  reflectively,  '*  that  a 
great  artist  uses  the  whole  question  of  sex  as  a 
means,  not  as  an  end.  He  doesn't  revel  in  it  for  its 
own  sake."  Then  he  broke  off  abruptly.  The  days 
had  not  yet  come  when  men  discussed  such  ques- 
tions with  young  girls. 

"  It  is  refreshing  to  see  a  woman  stand  up  for 
her  sex,"  he  said  in  a  lighter  tone ;  "  but  a  woman 
who  looks  at   life,  who  looks  at  every  work  of  art, 


200  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

through  the  medium  of  her  sex,  only  shows  how 
subject  she  is  to  its  limitations." 

Sturdy  drew  down  her  brows.  *'  I  should  like  to 
think  about  that,"  she  said.  "  It  sounds  very  true, 
but  it  doesn't  walk  straight  home  like  what  you 
said  about  Lohengrin.  I  think  aa  artist  is  bound  on 
the  whole  to  keep  even  the  petty  balance  between 
the  sexes  pretty  level." 

"  On  the  whole  perhaps,  but  not  in  each  indi- 
vidual work ;  his  canvas  may  not  be  big  enough  to 
get  it  all  in.  Don't  condemn  Wagner  till  you  have 
at  least  heard  Tannhduser  as  well." 

"  Oh,  Wagner !  "  she  said  simply,  "  I  wasn't 
thinking  of  him.     That  was  only  my  ignorance." 

"Well,  good-bye,"  he  said.  "You  won't  thank 
me  for  wasting  so  much  of  your  time." 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said  shyly,  taking  his  proffered 
hand.  "  Would — would  three  o'clock  suit  you  on 
Sunday  ?     I  should  love  to  come." 

Half  an  hour  later  she  made  her  way  home  to 
dinner.     One  of  the  German  girls  opened  the  door. 

'■^  Ach  !  "  she  cried  in  some  dismay,  surveying  the 
shabby  old  frock.  "  Then  you  haven't  seen  the 
English  gentleman  to-day?" 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  said  Sturdy,  hastily  pulling  ofif  her 
weather-beaten  hat. 

"  So  !  "  with  a  glance  at  the  unbecoming  coiffure. 
"I  suppose  he  isn't  young?" 

"  No,  he  isn't  young." 

"  Hm.  Married  perhaps.  What  a  pity  I  We  were 
hoping  last  night  that  something  might  come  of  it." 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  20I 

IX. 

"Why,  Misschen,  you  have  made  tremendous 
progress ! " 

It  was  a  bright  frosty  morning,  and  Sturdy  sat 
by  her  bedroom  window  making  hasty  impressionist 
sketches  of  chance  figures  in  the  square, — a  couple 
of  mongrel  dogs  harnessed  to  a  vegetable  cart,  a 
group  of  children  at  play,  a  sleigh  gliding  over  the 
snow. 

At  that  particular  hour — in  accordance  with  a 
formidable  time-table  on  the  wall — she  ought  to  have 
been  at  the  barracks,  practising ;  but  she  had  sprained 
her  left  wrist  the  week  before  in  the  endeavour  to 
acquire  a  bit  of  technique  to  which  her  master  at- 
tached great  importance. 

She  had  ignored  the  pain  on  the  morning  of  her 
lesson,  and  had  played  the  study  in  question  with 
great  spirit;  but  when  she  got  to  the  end,  a  sudden 
intolerable  twinge  had  warned  her  to  say  regretfully 
before  a  fresh  programme  was  prescribed, 

"  I  think  I  have  hurt  my  wrist." 

"  And  very  sensibly  done ! "  he  had  responded 
calmly.  "  Sprain  your  wrist  every  week,  if  you  do 
it  to  such  purpose  as  that." 

Then  he  noticed  the  whiteness  of  her  face  and 
the  trembling  of  the  ill-used  hand. 

"  Bandage  it  tightly  with  a  cold-water  cloth," 
he  said,  "  and  don't  practice  any  more  for  three 
days." 

So  she  sat  curled  up  at  the  window,  sketching  the 
figures  in  the  square. 


202  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

She  laid  down  her  pencil  and  drew  a  long  breath 
of  content.  "Why,  Misschen,  you  have  made  tre- 
mendous progress ! "  she  repeated  to  herself  softly ; 
and  then,  "  Sprain  your  wrist  every  week,  if  you  do 
it  to  such  purpose  as  that !  " 

Yes,  she  was  getting  on,  and  her  German  was 
progressing  better  than  either  music  or  drawing. 
She  ought  next  autumn  to  be  able  to  get  quite  a 
good  situation, — perhaps  fifty  pounds  a  year! 

The  money  was  a  very  important  item  to  poor 
Sturdy.  It  was  the  outward  and  visible  sign  of  the 
extent  to  which  she  had  attained  her  ideal;  and  it 
meant,  not  only  food  and  clothing,  but  all  the  dimly 
apprehended  culture  for  which  her  whole  soul  longed. 
It  was  the  medium  by  which  she  was  to  be  developed 
all  round,  that  she  might  lay  something  worth  having 
on  the  altar  of  her  lifework. 

Yes,  she  was  very  happy.  She  was  getting  on ; 
and  this  day  in  particular  was  all  gilt  and  red  letters, 
for  was  she  not  going  with  her  friend  in  the  evening 
to  see  Faust  i 

She  had  read  the  drama  for  the  third  time  the 
night  before,  scarcely  seeing  in  it  the  trite  story  of 
seduction,  of  which  it  has  become  the  type;  and  her 
whole  being  quivered  still  in  sympathy  with  Faust's 
perplexities  and  Gretchen's  sorrows. 

"  Letter,  Misschen  !  "  said  one  of  the  boarders, 
opening  the  door.  "  But  don't  raise  your  hopes.  It 
is  not  from  home." 

It  was  the  first  local  letter  Sturdy  had  received, 
and  she  scanned  it  eagerly.  The  handwriting  was 
strange  to  her, — clear,  cultured,  flowing,  a  thing  of 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  203 

beauty  in  itself, — and  might  have  been  that  of  either 
man  or  woman. 

But  alas  for  the  contents  ! 

"  Dear  Miss  Dunbar  :  I  enclose  two  tickets  for 
the  performance  this  evening.  I  am  sorry  I  have 
caught  a  chill,  and  shall  not  be  able  to  go.  If  this 
queer  Teutonic  vEsculapius  succeeds  in  patching 
me  up  again  for  a  little  space — as  he  seems  to 
think  he  can — I  hope  you  will  tell  me  some  day 
how  you  liked  it.  They  say  Klein  is  a  splendid 
Mephisto. 

•'  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Edward  Beresford." 

The  hand  that  held  the  letter  shook,  and  Sturdy's 
face  turned  very  white.  "T/"  this  queer  Teutonic 
-^sculapius  succeeds  in  patching  me  up  again — for  a 

little  space — as  he  seems  to  think  he  can  " Was 

it  a  joke  ?  or  did  he  really  mean  it  ?  Often  when 
he  was  speaking  it  was  impossible  to  tell,  and  now 
she  had  not  even  his  eyes  and  voice  to  guide  her. 
The  measured  steady  handwriting  gave  no  clue. 
She  thought  with  a  pang  of  his  thinness,  of  his  oc- 
casional cough,  of  the  hands  and  face  that  looked 
so  transparent  now  that  their  summer  coat  of  sun- 
burn was  gone.  Could  he  be  really  ill  ? — seriously 
ill  ? — in  danger? 

He  had   given    her   his   address,  and   to    her   it 

seemed  a  very  imposing  one.     Would  it  be  possible 

for  her  to  brave  that  fine  facade  and  ring  the  bell, 

and  enquire  how  he  was  ?     Perhaps  his  sisters  were 

14 


204 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


with  him, — those  lovely  elegant  girls  she  had  seen 
on  the  steamer;  and,  if  so,  they  would  resent  the 
interest  of  a  shabby  little  bourgeoise.  On  the  other 
hand,  her  friend  might  be  alone, — and  he  might — be 
going  to  die. 

An  hour  later  she  was  making  her  way  up  a 
staircase  which  seemed  to  her  simply  palatial.  The 
steps  were  carpeted  with  heavy  matting,  the  balus- 
trades cushioned  with  crimson  velvet,  and  at  every 
turn  a  bronze  figure  held  aloft  a  large  lamp.  Her 
voice  shook  for  very  shyness  when  she  enquired  for 
the  sick  man. 

"Are  you  a  friend  of  his?"  asked  the  landlady 
eagerly. 

"  Yes."  What  else  indeed  could  she  say — being 
there  ? 

"  Gott  set  Dank  I  Then  you  will  come  in  and  see 
him  ?  Oh,  it  is  not  a  time  for  standing  on  ceremony, 
I  assure  you.  The  doctor  says  it  is  most  unfortu- 
nate that  none  of  his  friends  are  here. — A  charming 
English  lady  with  a  little  boy  did  call  one  day;  but 
it  seems  they  have  gone  to  Vienna. — There  is  a  great 
deal  of  old-standing  mischief  in  the  lungs,  the  doctor 
says;  but  there  is  no  reason  why  he  shouldn't  get 
over  this  particular  attack,  and  be  practically  as 
well  as  he  was  before,  if  only  he  could  pick  up  heart 
and  take  nourishment.  He  won't  eat:  I  believe  he 
can't :  it  is  positively  touching  to  see  him  try.  And 
I  have  made  him  such  excellent  soup!  Come  in,  do, 
and  cheer  him  up  a  bit." 

Sturdy  shrank  selfishly  from  the  spectacle  of  pain 
and  weakness ;  but  the  good  Hausfrau  left  her  no 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


205 


option  in  the  matter,  and  another  minute  found  her 
face  to  face  with  her  friend. 

Solemn  and  large-eyed,  Ned  lay  in  his  comfort- 
able bedroom,  deliberately  looking  death  in  the  face, 
and  trying  to  persuade  himself  that  he  did  not  care. 
His  was  not  the  Christian  temperament  which  glories 
in  infirmity ;  by  nature  he  was  a  pure  Greek ;  and  all 
his  life  he  had  hated  with  unspeakable  loathing  even 
the  mention  of  the  unwholesome  or  pathological  in 
mind  or  body.  It  seemed  the  very  irony  of  fate 
when  his  fine  physique  was  undermined  by  the  in- 
roads of  an  insidious  disease ;  but  the  disease  entirely 
failed  to  crush  his  indomitable  spirit.  He  refused  to 
accept  any  conventional  view  of  the  situation.  As 
long  as  it  was  possible,  he  ignored  the  fact  that  he 
was  ill  at  all,  while  congratulating  himself  on  the 
leisure  his  delicacy  gave  him  to  indulge  his  particular 
tastes  in  Art  and  Literature.  Even  those  who  knew 
him  best  found  themselves  unable  to  form  any  just 
estimate  of  the  plans  and  hopes  and  aspirations  that 
lay  buried  beneath  his  gay,  light-hearted  exterior. 
He  himself  would  have  said  there  were  none.  He 
elected,  and  to  a  great  extent  his  constitution  made 
it  easy  for  him,  to  walk  on  the  heights  of  his  nerv- 
ous organisation  ;  but,  when  one  of  Nature's  knock- 
down blows  made  this  impossible,  he  had  far  to  fall, 
and  the  depths  were  dark  indeed. 

And  so  he  lay  in  bed,  deliberately  looking  death 
in  the  face,  and  trying  to  persuade  himself  that  he 
did.  not  care. 

He  had  been  a  fool,  of  course,  to  remain  in  the 


2o6  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

North  so  long,  but  there  was  no  use  in  going  back 
on  that  now.  The  die  was  cast.  Should  he  write  to 
his  people  at  home,  as  his  landlady  wished  ?  No,  no. 
The  doctor  said  he  might  get  over  this  attack  in  a 
few  days ;  and  although,  no  doubt,  the  doctor  lied, 
it  would  be  too  ridiculous  to  make  a  fuss  about  noth- 
ing.    Let  things  drift !     Let  things  drift ! 

An  English  lady — Miss  Dunbar — was  anxious  to 
see  him.     Might  she  come  in  ? 

His  first  impulse  was  to  refuse.  It  was  too  hu- 
miliating to  be  seen  like  this.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  thought  of  Sturdy's  bracing  personality  came  to 
him  like  a  whiff  of  air  from  tlie  happier  world  behind 
him, — and  he  said  yes.  It  was  so  characteristic  of 
her  to  take  him  by  storm  in  this  fashion,  he  thought, 
little  guessing  her  anguish  of  mind  at  the  prospect. 

But  her  anguish  was  short-lived.  At  the  sight  of 
suffering  so  real,  all  the  mother  in  her  rose,  and  put 
to  flight  the  awkward,  self-conscious  girl. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  you  have  been  ill,"  she  said  in  an 
interested  but  thoroughly  matter-of-fact  way,  sitting 
down  by  the  bedside  as  she  spoke. 

"  You  must  be,"  he  replied  with  the  ghost  of  a 
smile,  "  if  you  have  left  your  beloved  barracks  to 
come  and  tell  me  so." 

'*  Don't  give  me  any  credit  for  that ;  "  and  with  an 
instinctive  feeling  that  she  must  not  talk  of  him,  and 
a  natural  tendency  to  talk  about  herself  when  no 
other  subject  was  pressing,  she  told  him  the  story 
of  her  sprained  wrist,  and  of  what  the  professor  had 
said. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


207 


This  naturally  suggested  other  sayings  and  doings 
of  the  professor  in  question,  some  of  which  had  be- 
come part  of  the  tradition  of  the  Conservatorium. 
Sturdy  took  care  that  they  should  lose  nothing  in  the 
telling,  and  she  was  relieved  to  see,  as  she  chatted 
on,  that  Ned's  smile  became  more  frequent  and  less 
death-like. 

He  admired  her  tact  in  taking  his  condition  for 
granted  and  asking  no  questions. 

"And  what  are  you  doing  with  your  time?"  he 
asked  at  length, 

"  I  was  sketching  some  dogs  in  the  square  this 
morning.  It  was  great  fun."  And,  with  a  real  moral 
effort,  she  produced  the  shabby  little  sketch-book 
from  the  pocket  of  her  cloak. 

Very  feebly  he  held  out  a  delicate,  blue-veined 
hand. 

"  Take  off  your  hat,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  me  about 
your  pictures." 

She  needed  no  second  bidding,  but  she  was 
startled  to  see  how  weak  he  was. 

"Wait  one  moment,"  she  said,  "while  I  fetch 
your  soup.     Your  landlady  said  it  was  time." 

"  No,  no,"  he  began  querulously,  but  he  suddenly 
realized  that  he  was  hungry.  In  some  indescribable 
way  the  nerve  tension  had  relaxed,  and  he  felt  that 
he  could  eat. 

"  Gott  set  Dank !  "  exclaimed  the  good  woman 
when  she  heard  the  request.  "  Wait  one  moment, 
Fraulein,  a  glass  of  good  red  wine  will  do  him  no 
harm." 

It  was  astonishing  how  his  heart  revived  as  he 


2o8  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

sipped  the  savoury  soup;  and  all  the  time,  with  de- 
licious unselfconsciousness,  Sturdy  sat  curled  up  in 
a  big  easy-chair  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  chatting  and 
laughing  in  a  low  pleasant  voice,  and  almost  forcing 
him  to  laugh  too. 

If  he  had  really  occupied  the  centre  place  in  her 
life — if,  in  fact,  she  had  been  in  love  with  him — his 
profound  depression  must  have  dominated  the  mood 
of  a  woman  so  much  younger  than  himself ;  but,  for- 
tunately for  him  at  the  moment,  her  affection  and 
gratitude  and  admiration  left  abundant  room  in  her 
mind  for  a  deep  interest  in  her  own  life  and  plans. 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  Girton?"  he  asked  sud- 
denly.    She  shook  her  empty  hands. 

"  How  pleasant  it  is  to  have  money,  heigh-ho  ! 
How  pleasant  it  is  to  have  money  !  " 

"  But  there  are  entrance  scholarships." 

She  blushed  as  if  he  had  read  her  thoughts.  Was 
not  the  paper  of  regulations  among  her  most  cher- 
ished possessions  ? — laid  up  in  cedar,  yet  falling  to 
pieces  from  frequent  perusal  ? 

"  I  know,"  she  said,  "  but  they  leave  one  a  great 
deal  to  make  up.  It  seems  impossible  at  present, 
and  yet — I  can't  shut  the  idea  altogether  out  of  my 
dream  world.     I  may  earn  enough  in  time." 

"  Have  you  any  pupils  here  ?  I  remember  you 
wanted  some." 

"  Two,"  she  said, — "  a  governess  and  a  clerk." 

"A  clerk  ?     A  manl  " 

"Yes." 

"  Humph  !  "  he  ejaculated  indignantly.     "  What 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


209 


does  the  fellow  pay  you  ? "  He  wondered  whether 
she  would  resent  the  question. 

She/eU  it  evidently,  but  did  not  resent  it. 

"  Ten  marks  for  twelve  lessons," 

"  Nonsense  !  What  an  infernal  niggard  he  must 
be!" 

She  rose. 

"  It  was  I  who  fixed  the  price,"  she  said  simply ; 
"and — I  am  afraid  I  am  making  you  talk  too  much. 
Good-bye." 

"  In  other  words,  'What  the  devil  are  my  affairs 
to  you  ?'  " 

She  laughed  assentingly,  but  had  not  the  nous  to 
retain  an  advantage,  even  when  it  was  given  to  her 
by  the  adversary. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said.  "  If  you  are  good  enough 
to  care " 

"  Will  you  come  back  ?  " 

"  If  I  may." 

"  When  ?  " 

"  This  evening  if  you  like." 

He  was  feeling  a  great  deal  better,  but  he  knew 
by  bitter  experience  how  his  whole  tone  of  mind 
would  gravitate  to  lower  levels  as  night  came  on. 

"And  what  about  Faust i  "  he  said. 

"Oh,  bother  Faust!  I  mean — I  had  forgotten. 
It  was  more  than  kind  of  you  to  send  me  the  tickets; 
but  you  must  have  lots  of  other  friends  who  would 
be  glad  to  have  them,  and  I — would  rather  come  to 
you  if  you  care  to  have  me." 

"  You  are  awfully  good  to  me,"  he  said  humbly. 
"  I  wish  the  old  bellows-mender  was  worth  it !  " 


210  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

She  flashed  over  him  a  glance  that  was  a  tonic  in 
itself.     "  Worth  it !  "  she  said. 

From  that  morning  Ned  began  to  mend  ;  his  ap- 
petite improved,  and  his  temperature  gradually  ceased 
to  rise  in  the  afternoon.  He  was  thankful  he  had 
not  written  to  his  friends  at  home;  and  his  gratitude 
to  Sturdy  was  quite  out  of  proportion  to  her  deserts, 
for  she  counted  it  all  pleasure  and  profit  to  spend  an 
hour  or  two  in  his  society  each  day.  He  had  told  no 
one  else  that  he  was  ill,  and  for  a  week  her  daily  visit 
was  the  pivot  on  which  his  whole  life  turned.  The 
landlady,  too,  received  her  with  open  arms,  and  grad- 
ually fell  into  the  practice  of  sending  in  fruit  or 
chocolate  and  cakes  for  the  delectation  of  the  bright 
little  English  miss,  who  obviously  was  not  over-bur- 
dened with  this  world's  goods,  and  who  showed  so 
frank  an  appreciation  of  the  delicacies  in  question. 

As  was  natural  under  the  conditions,  all  that  was 
best  in  Stufdy's  character  came  out,  and  she  proved 
to  be  one  of  those  people  for  whom  it  is  an  excellent 
lesson  to  learn  their  own  value.  Each  day  Ned 
thought  her  simpler,  sweeter,  more  womanly.  It  was 
curious  how  completely  their  positions  were  reversed 
for  the  time :  she  was  the  light-bringer  now,  and  he 
sat  in  the  narrow  confines  of  his  lot,  and  watched  for 
her  coming. 

And  so  convalescence  came,  and  drifted  them 
apart  again. 

"  Excellent !  "  said  the  doctor  one  evening,  as  he 
examined  his  clinical  thermometer  by  the  light  of 
the  reading-lamp.     '•  But  you  must  not  run  the  risk 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  2II 

of  another  attack  like  this.  The  grey  North  is  no 
place  for  you  from  November  to  May.  If  you  keep 
as  well  as  you  are  now,  there  is  no  reason  why  you 
shouldn't  start  for  San  Remo  in  the  beginning  of  the 
week." 

"  All  right !  "  said  Ned,  "  I  have  a  friend  there 
who  is  expecting  me ;  "  and,  with  a  pang  of  regret, 
he  realized  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  any  other 
friend  to  fill  poor  little  Sturdy  s  place  in  his  life.  Of 
course  that  feeling  would  pass  in  a  week  or  two ; 
but,  for  the  moment,  it  was  pleasant  to  give  himself 
up  to  it,  to  exaggerate  her  merits  and  the  extent  of 
his  indebtedness  to  her.  What  a  plucky,  loyal  Httle 
soul  she  was !  One  would  lose  faith  in  human  na- 
ture if  she  proved  unworthy  of  a  trust.  And  what 
a  headpiece — for  a  woman !  He  would  have  liked 
to  kick  the  confounded  little  cad  who  was  taking 
twelve  lessons  from  her  for  the  price  of  one.  It  was 
infamous ! 

She  had  promised  to  come  in  this  evening,  but  of 
course  the  rain  would  detain  her.  How  it  did  dash 
against  the  windows  !  Ah,  well !  they  must  make  the 
most  of  the  three  days  that  remained — Friday,  Satur- 
day, Sunday. 

A  quick  rap  at  the  door,  and  an  eager  face 
looked  in. 

"Why,  Sturdy,"  he  said  with  shining  eyes,  "you 
have  never  ventured  out  on  such  a  night !  " 

She  smiled,  surprised. 

"  Is  that  my  name  ? " 

He  nodded,  conscious  for  the  first  time  that  he 
had  used  it. 


212  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"Of  my  very  own  earning?" 

"Assuredly." 

"I  like  it,"  she  said  decidedly.  "Please  don't 
ever  call  me  Miss  Dunbar  again.  You  didn't  think  a 
little  rain  would  keep  me  away,  did  you  ? " 

An  affectionate  word  was  on  his  lips,  but  at  that 
moment  she  removed  her  cloak,  and,  with  a  quick 
revulsion  of  feeling,  he  exclaimed  irritably, 

"Whose  livery  do  you  wear  ?" 

"Livery?"  she  repeated,  startled. 

"Yes.  If  you  are  not  in  livery,  what  induces  you 
to  wear  those  atrocious  brass  buttons?" 

She  coloured.  "  It  is  an  old  frock,"  she  said 
apologetically.     "  The  night  is  so  wet." 

But  Ned  was  suffering  from  the  irritability  of  the 
convalescent,  and  moreover  he  had  to  pay  the  penalty 
of  his  recent  rare  indulgence  in  emotional  idealiza- 
tion. 

"  What  has  its  age  got  to  do  with  it  ? "  he  said. 
"  One  would  think  gowns  developed  brass  buttons  as 
humanity  develops  silver  hairs  !  " 

She  laughed  in  spite  of  herself.  "The  dressmaker 
put  them  on,"  she  said,  "and  I  suppose  I  just  took 
them  for  granted." 

"Just  look  across  at  your  reflection  in  the  pier- 
glass — a  detestable  piece  of  furniture,  by  the  way — 
and  analyze  it  as  you  would  analyze  a  picture  in  the 
National  Gallery.     One " 

"Oh,  don't!"  she  cried,  wincing. 

He  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said  desperately.  "  It  is  awfully 
good  of  you  to  take  the  trouble." 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


213 


"  On  the  contrary.  The  subject  has  preyed  on  my 
mind  for  months.  I  shall  sleep  to-night.  One  can't 
judge  of  colour  in  this  semi-darkness,  but  look  at  the 
lights.  The  gown  is  in  obscurity ;  the  face  in  semi- 
obscurity;  the  high  lights  of  the  picture  are  consti- 
tuted by " 

"I  see,"  she  said,  with  profound  conviction.  "It 
is  appalling." 

"And  if  you  will  study  the  subject  by  daylight, 
you  will  see  that,  on  the  one  hand,  that  inflammatory 
dye  has  no  beauty  of  its  own ;  while,  on  the  other, 
it  robs  your  face  of  all  the  colour  it  habitually  pos- 
sesses,— of  course  you  have  been  walking  in  the  rain 
just  now ; — moreover,  it  makes  your  hair  look  ab- 
solutely commonplace;  whereas  the  other  evening, 
when  you  wore  that  blue  thing,  it  looked  almost — 
striking." 

"  I  am  going  to  get  a  new  frock,"  she  said  shyly, 
"  the  first  I  ever  chose  for  myself.  My  uncle  has 
sent  me  the  money  to  buy  one  as  a  Christmas 
present." 

"  What  fun  !  I  wish  I  could  help  you  to  choose 
it.  Mind  you  get  a  colour  complementary  to  your 
own,  not  hard  like  navy-blue,  nor  cold  and  chalky 
like  some  of  the  greens  they  are  beginning  to  wear. 
It  must  be  something  soft  and  sympathetic, — some- 
thing you  don't  mind  seeing  repeated  in  the  shadows 
of  your  face.     Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Theoretically.     I  will  try  to  work  it  out." 

"Thank  you.  You  can't  think  what  a  relief  it  is 
to  have  got  that  said." 

"  I  am  sure  you  might  have  said  it  long  ago  !  " 


214 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  I  wonder.  You  have  an  astonishing  gift  for  re- 
tiring into  your  shell  just  when  one  begins  to  think 
one  has  got  hold  of  you." 

"  I  never  thought  of  applying  rules  of  art  to  a 
thing  hke  that,"  she  added  reflectively.  "  The  fact 
is,  art  is  a  bit  of  you  ;  with  me  it  is  a  graft  at  the 
best — like  most  other  things,  I  must  have  jarred 
on  you  a  dozen  times  for  once  that  1  saw  I  had 
done  it — and  that  was  often  enough  !  " 

He  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  shook  his  head  with 
mock  resignation. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  he  said,  "  it  has  been  a  sore  trial,  a 
winnowing  dispensation !  " 

Then  he  turned  on  her  almost  brutally. 

"  Are  we  going  to  be  intense  ? "  he  said.  "  If  so, 
I'll  take  a  back  seat.     It's  not  my  specialty." 

She  reversed  engines  with  a  suddenness  that  sur- 
prised him,  "By  the  way,"  she  said  lightly,  "I 
meant  to  tell  you  when  I  first  came  in  that  this  was 
pay  day,  and  my  pupil  insisted  on  making  it  fifteen 
marks.  He  said  my  teaching  was  cheap  at  the 
price." 

"  So  I  should  think  !  Even  so  it  is  outrageous. 
Do  you  know.  Sturdy,  I  have  been  thinking  a  great 
deal  about  that  Girton  business.  I  am  sure,  if  you 
go  the  right  way  to  work,  you  can't  miss  it.  Tell 
me  what  you  have  done  in  Latin  and  Mathematics  ? " 


THE   STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP.  215 

Ned  was  gone, 

"  Work  is  the  cure  for  this  mood  !  "  said  Sturdy, 
and  she  worked  harder  than  ever. 

Work  was  the  cure  for  most  moods,  according 
to  her  simple  philosophy  ;  and,  if  one  must  have  a 
panacea,  it  would  be  difficult  perhaps  to  suggest  a 
better. 

When  Christmas  came  round,  all  the  boarders 
went  home,  and  she  was  left  alone  with  Fraulein 
and  Pauline,  the  maid  of  all  work.  Poor  Fraulein 
did  her  best  to  give  the  English  girl  some  idea  of 
what  a  German  Christmas  means;  and  a  pathetic 
little  Weihnachtsbaum  duly  shed  forth  its  feeble  rays 
from  the  third-floor  window ;  but  I  fear  the  festival 
would  have  been  rather  a  dreary  one,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  arrival  the  day  after  Christmas  of  a 
mysterious  packet  bearing  an  Italian  postmark. 
The  packet  contained  a  few  fine  photographs  of 
great  Italian  paintings;  and,  although  Sturdy  would 
have  been  the  first  to  say  that  she  did  not  "  appre- 
ciate "  them,  she  studied  them  with  a  rapturous 
affection  which  can  scarcely  have  been  entirely 
without  reward.  Along  with  the  photographs  was  a 
slip  of  paper  on  which  were  inscribed  the  words — 
Del  vostro  affettuoso  amico. 

Sturdy  had  learnt  no  Italian,  but  she  understood 
that. 

"  I  wish  I  were  worthy  to  be  his  friend  !  "  she  said 
regretfully,  "  I  must  make  a  fresh  start,  and  work 
very  hard  in  the  new  year." 


2i6  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

And  so  the  days  passed  into  weeks,  and  the 
weeks  into  months. 

In  February  her  funds  began  to  run  low,  so  she 
left  the  boarding-house,  and  went  to  live  in  a  fur- 
nished room.  It  was  cheaper  to  make  her  own 
coffee  twice  a  day,  and  dine  at  an  unpretentious 
restaurant ;  and,  moreover,  by  that  time  she  had 
mastered  the  simple  vocabulary  of  the  boarders, 
most  of  whom  were  younger  than  herself. 

"  When  spring  comes  I  shall  be  able  to  work 
much  harder,"  she  said ;  but  when  spring  came, 
kindling  the  trees  into  a  soft  green  glow  of  life,  it 
found  her  reproaching  herself  unceasingly  with  her 
laziness.     In  truth  the  child  was  growing  very  tired. 

One  day  early  in  May  she  had  trudged  home 
from  the  barracks,  weary  and  out  of  heart,  when 
she  found  a  letter  awaiting  her.  Ah,  me!  It  is 
only  in  youth  that  we  get  just  that  kind  of  joy  out 
of  letters, — the  joy  that  makes  us  linger  over  the 
handwriting  on  the  envelope,  guessing  the  mood  in 
which  the  letter-was  written, — the  joy  that  makes 
us  read  it  slowly,  so  slowly,  because  (although  each 
subsequent  reading  will  discover  something  new) 
there  is  a  subtle  flavour  about  the  first  which  we 
shall  never  find  again. 

And  this  is  what  she  read, 

"My  dear  Sturdy:  Do  you  recognize  the  hand- 
writing, or  have  you  forgotten  the  old  bellows- 
mender  altogether?  If  not,  you  may  be  kindly  in- 
terested to  hear  that  he  is  still  wheezing  along  the 
flinty  pathways  of  this  lower  world — very  very  far 


THE  STORY  OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


217 


in  the  rear,  of  course;  but  still  sauntering  along  in 
his  own  fashion,  with  ample  time  to  observe  all  you 
poor  wretches  who  will  insist  upon  running. 

"Are  you  running,  I  wonder? — only  running? 
Or  have  you  long  since  gone  off  in  a  fiery  chariot  of 
spontaneous  moral  combustion  ?  The  very  recollec- 
tion of  your  force  is  exhausting, — infectious  too.  It 
doesn't  give  a  fellow  a  fair  chance  when  a  disagree- 
able duty  is  on  the  tapis. 

"  Tell  me  where  I  can  see  you  on  Sunday  after- 
noon. 

"  Your  worthless  but  grateful  patient, 

«  Ned." 

A  curious  flush  came  over  Sturdy's  eyes  as  she 
read,  but  she  did  not  encourage  the  tears.  It  was 
much  more  characteristic  of  her  to  make  a  hasty 
critical  survey  of  the  room,  instinctively  looking  at 
every  detail  with  his  eyes.  How  proud  and  glad 
she  was  to  have  a  place  of  her  own  to  receive  him 
in ! — she  who,  in  the  exercise  of  her  hospitality 
hitherto,  had  always  been  dependent  on  the  will  or 
caprices  of  others. 

It  was  a  very  plain,  shabby  little  room,  to  be 
sure,  but  she  had  ceased  to  be  ashamed  of  her  pov- 
erty,— at  least  where  he  was  concerned.  A  neat 
chintz  cover  converted  the  tiny  wooden  bed  into  a 
sofa  by  day,  and  the  worm-eaten  washhand-stand 
folded  up  into  a  side-table. 

On  her  way  home  from  church  on  Sunday  she 
bought  a  crisp  little  Napfkuchen,  a  few  pennyworths 
of  whipped  cream,  and  a  great  bunch  of  daffodils; 


21 8  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

and  then  she  gave  all  her  energies  to  the  making  of 
the  coffee. 

She  hung  over  the  battered  old  pot  as  though  the 
welfare  of  an  empire  were  at  stake,  and  she  had  just 
convinced  herself  that  the  result  was  an  unquali- 
fied success,  when  the  door  opened  and  Ned 
walked  in. 

His  face  had  regained  its  becoming  coat  of  sun- 
burn, but  Sturdy  still  saw  in  the  great  blue  eyes 
something  of  the  look  that  had  appalled  her  that 
bright  December  day.  Even  to  an  rnexperienced 
child  like  her,  he  could  never  again  be  quite  as  other 
men  are. 

She  feasted  her  eyes  frankly  on  his  great  lanky 
brotherly  figure. 

"  I  never  expected  to  see  you  again,"  she  said. 

"  Thought  I'd  be  under  the  mools  ? "  he  responded 
with  the  old  mischievous  smile.  "  It  is  astonishing 
how  much  it  takes  to  kill  me." 

"  Oh,  how  can  you  ? "  she  cried,  disgusted  at  her 
own  stupidity.  "  I  meant — I  thought  your  beloved 
Italy  would  not  let  you  go." 

"  Her  embrace  was  becoming  a  trifle  fervid.  That 
was  what  drove  me  away." 

"  But  you  have  had  a  good  time  ? " 

"  Oh,  first-rate.  I  found  my  abortive  grunts  on 
the  cello  were  immensely  appreciated  by  an  amateur 
orchestra,  and  even  my  stray  chips  of  German 
seemed  impressive  when  viewed  through  an  Italian 
atmosphere.  I  have  come  back  to  rub  up  both ; 
but  they  recommend  Dresden  this  time.  They  say 
the  place  is  not  so  bad  as  its  china." 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


219 


She  did  not  answer.  What  more  could  she  possi- 
bly ask  than  this  one  priceless  afternoon  ? 

"  Well,  I  do  call  this  jolly ! "  he  cried,  dropping 
into  an  old-fashioned  arm-chair.  **  Have  we  really 
got  the  field  to  ourselves  ?  And  does  the  aroma  that 
greeted  me  on  the  stairs  really  issue  from  this  very 
room  ?  Why,  Sturdy,  what  an  afternoon  we'll  make 
of  it!" 

She  smiled.  In  her  infinite  content  it  did  not 
occur  to  her  to  speak. 

^'  You  must  have  no  end  of  news  to  tell  me.  No 
sugar,  thanks.  W^hat  a  don  you  must  be  by  now ! 
How  is  Herr  Waldstein  ?" 

"  Disgusted  with  me.  I  seem  less  and  less  able 
to  please  him  as  I  get  on." 

"  Ah  !  "  This  was  precisely  what  Ned  had  antici- 
pated, and  it  was  characteristic  of  him  to  let  her  see 
it.     "Swears,  does  he?" 

"Oh,  no!  I  wish  he  did!  That  is  the  trying 
part  of  it.  He  sees  that  1  do  my  best,  and  he  must 
feel  that  he  wasted  his  time  on  me  at  first.  He 
often  gave  me  more  than  my  share  of  the  lesson.  It 
is  an  awful  experience  to  fall  short  of  anyone's  ex- 
pectations." 

"  I  can  imagine  you  find  it  so.  And  what  about 
the  teaching?     How  is — my  friend,  the  clerk  ?" 

A  deep  blush  spread  slowly  over  her  face, 

"  I  don't  teach  him  now,"  she  said  rather  jerkily, 
but  with  the  air  of  one  who  dismisses  a  subject. 

Ned  looked  down  on  her  with  the  calm  smile 
which  might  have  seemed  cynical  to  anyone  who 
did  not  know  him. 
15 


220  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"  Ah  !     Asked  a  little  too  much,  did  he  ? " 

She  looked  as  if  he  had  performed  a  feat  in 
thought-reading.     **  However  did  you  guess  ?  " 

"  I  can't  think.  And  yet  on  second  thoughts  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  heard  of  that  sort  of  thing 
happening  before." 

"  It  never  happened  to  me  before,"  she  said 
frankly ;  "  and  it  was  a  horrible  shock." 

"  But  I  can't  think  why  a  commonplace  little 
episode  like  that  should  have  put  a  stop  to  the  les- 
sons. I  hope  you  were  not  so  much  taken  aback 
that  you  omitted  to  tell  him  he  must  look  on  you  as 
a  sister  ? " 

She  laughed,  but  did  not  answer.  "  I  have  had 
another  pupil,  however.  The  baroness,  in  whose 
family  my  little  governess  teaches,  is  taking  lessons 
from  me  herself.     She  has  had  a  dozen," 

"  Oh !  she  was  not  deterred  by  your  exorbitant 
terms?" 

The  ready  blush  returned  to  the  girl's  face. 

"We  didn't  say  anything  about  money,"  she  con- 
fessed uneasily.  "  She  gave  me  sixty  marks  yester- 
day. I  did  refuse  at  first,  but  she  made  me  take  it. 
I  hope  I  did  right." 

He  laughed  softly.  "And  how  about  your  draw- 
ing ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  am  at  a  standstill  there 
too.  The  truth  is — I  seem  to  have  just  wakened  up 
to  the  fact  that  my  life  is  a  failure ;  and  it  is  not  a 
cheering  discovery  to  make."  There  was  no  affecta- 
tion in  her  tone;  she  was  evidently  making  as  light 
as  possible  of  a  mood  that  was  weighing  her  down. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  221 

He  raised  his  brows.  "  Really  !  "  he  said  with  a 
curious  light  in  his  eyes.  *'  Now  I  suppose  you  are 
the  first  man  who  ever  made  that  discovery  about 
himself.  It  is  worth  making  a  note  of.  Most  of  us 
are  crushed  by  a  sense  of  our  own  stupendous 
achievements  and  success." 

She  smiled,  amused  at  his  tone,  but  abashed  once 
more  at  her  own  tactlessness. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  though,"  he  exclaimed 
with  a  sudden  change  of  manner,  "  you  are  looking 
pale,  and — yes,  I  declare  you  are  stooping.  Why, 
Sturdy,  you  are  unworthy  of  your  name.  And  you 
know  you  will  cease  to  be  a  moral  inspiration  if  you 
turn  your  life  into  a  treadmill.  Why  are  you  living 
alone  like  this  ?  " 

"  It  is  cheaper ;  and  I  was  tired  of  the  other 
place." 

"  And  are  you  being  properly  fed  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  Really  and  truly  I  am.  And  I  am 
not  alone.  My  landlady  is  always  ready  to  talk 
when  I  care  to,  and  she  speaks  beautiful  German. 
She  has  seen  better  days." 

"  I  know.     They  all  have." 

"  I  can't  think  why  I  should  be  done  up  just  now. 
There  is  every  reason  why  I  shouldn't  be." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  must  want  a  change  apart 
from  everything  else.  You  can't  go  on  for  ever 
like  the  brook.  Can't  you  go  to  the  country  for 
a  week  ?  The  Whitsuntide  holidays  are  coming 
on." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  know  anyone  in 
the  country.     One  of  the  boarders  kindly  asked  me 


222  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

to  go  home  with  her  at  Easter,  but  1  wanted  to  get 
on  with  my  work." 

"  That  people  should  still  be  so  young!  " 

"  And  besides,  I  couldn't  very  well  afford  it.  The 
journey  was  long,  and  I  should  have  had  to  get  a 
number  of  little  things  that  I  can  do  without  here. 
You  see,  I  didn't  know  that  I  should  have  a  wind- 
fall of  fifty  marks." 

He  folded  his  arms  on  the  table,  and  looked 
across  at  her,  frowning. 

"  I  am  going  for  a  leisurely  tramp  through  Saxon 
Switzerland  before  settling  down  in  Dresden,"  he 
said.  "  I  wish  I  could  take  you  with  me.  They  say 
it  is  lovely  at  this  time  of  year." 

The  light  leapt  up  in  her  face  at  the  very  idea 
of  such  a  thing.  *'  I  wish  you  could,"  she  said 
simply. 

"You  don't  know  any  nice,  neutral  sort  of  person 
who  would  do  the  chaperon  business,  I  suppose  ? " 
he  suggested  doubtfully. 

"  No ;  and  besides,  I  should  have  to  travel  third- 
class  by  slow  train,  and  I  couldn't  afford  hotels;  and 
even  then  my  fifty  marks  wouldn't  go  very  far." 

"  I  think  we  might  compromise  that  if  we  could 
manage  the  chaperon."  He  began  now  to  look  at  the 
matter  from  his  own  point  of  view  as  well  as  from 
hers, — to  think  what  an  ideal  travelling  companion 
she  would  make,  with  her  fresh  naivete,  her  thirst 
for  enjoyment,  her  pretty  deference  to  his  greater 
experience.  It  was  slow  work  travelling  alone ;  and, 
although  other  companions  could  no  doubt  be  found, 
he  dreaded  the  pity  and  patronage  of  his  own  sex. 


THE  STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP. 


223 


It  would  be  too  humiliating  to  have  to  cry  for  quar- 
ter at  every  hill,  to  be  always  the  first  to  propose  an 
hour's  rest,  or  to  cavil  at  the  hardships  which,  cor- 
pore  sano,  he  would  have  welcomed  with  a  rapture  of 
which  strong  men  had  no  conception.  Now  Sturdy 
— Sturdy  had  been  down  with  him  in  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow,  and  no  word  of  explanation  on  that 
score  would  ever  be  needed  between  her  and  him 
again. 

The  pain  and  abnegation  in  his  face  wrung  her 
heart. 

**  In  any  case  a  girl  would  only  be  a  drag  on 
you,"  she  said  craftily. 

"Humph!  The  difficulty  would  be  much  more 
likely  to  lie  the  other  way." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  really  be 
willing  to  take  me  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  would  really  be 
willing  to  go  ?" 

"Why  not?" 

The  blue  eyes  dilated  with  amusement. 

"  '  It  isn  t — customary.'  " 

She  blushed.  "  I  know  I  said  that  once,  but  I 
have  been  thinking  a  great  deal  on  the  subject  since. 
If  I  lived  in  a  big  gracious  cultured  world,  I  should 
be  willing  to  be  bound  by  it?  capricious  rules  and 
regulations;  but  in  my  particular  cramped  little  cor- 
ner the  smug  smile  of  approval  is  a  deal  too  dear  at 
the  price." 

She  had  risen  to  her  feet  unconsciously,  and  now 
stretched  her  arms  with  a  long  sigh  of  relaxation. 
"  I  must  get  breath  where  I  can.     I  must  live  my 


224 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


own  life  ;  and  if,  in  consequence,  people  will  have 
none  of  me,  I  must  just  make  shift  to  do  without 
their  society.  It  is  not  as  if  I  were  the  sort  of  girl 
men  think  about.  No  one  who  looks  at  life  '  with 
larger  other  eyes'  would  say  I  was  wrong;  and  I 
can't  afford  to  consider  the  rest." 

He  felt  centuries  old  as  he  looked  at  her  eager 
face.  How  odd  it  must  seem  to  be  so  young — to 
have  life  all  before  one  like  that ! 

*'  I  wonder,"  he  said  kindly,  "  whether  I  ought  to 
let  you  judge  for  yourself.  You  are  very  young,  and 
at  this  moment  you  are  quite  out  of  touch  with  the 
world.  An  hour  at  home  might  make  your  view  of 
things  very  different." 

The  light  died  out  of  her  face,  and  he  realized 
with  a  touch  of  wonder  that  she  was  only  a  plain 
woman  after  all. 

*'  Listen,"  she  said,  seating  herself  again.  "  I 
know  you  hate  heroics,  but  I  should  like  you  just  to 
have  some  idea  of  what  my  life  has  been.  I  have 
lived  most  of  the  time  in  a  manufacturing  town  in 
the  heart  of  the  black  country,  among  people — oh,  I 
wonder  what  you  would  say  if  you  knew  the  things 
they  talked  about ! — hour  after  hour,  always  and  al- 
ways !  Occasionally  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  uncle  and 
aunt  in  another  manufacturing  town,  and  there  it 
was  just  the  same — only  more  so,  as  you  would  say. 
Two  years  ago  I  went  to  boarding-school  by  the 
midland  route.  There  were  some  fine  views  on  the 
way,  if  one  could  only  have  stopped  the  train  now 
and  then  to  look  at  them ! — At  the  end  of  a  year  I 
went  home  again,  and  a  few  months  later  I  came  to 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


225 


Germany,  That  is  all  I  have  seen  of  the  world. 
All  my  life  I  have  dreamt  of  forests  and  mountains 
and  glens,  but  I  have  never  really  seen  them.  And 
now  you  give  me  a  chance  to  see  them  for  the  first 
time  with  your  eyes " 

"  No,  no  !  "  he  said.  "  They  would  be  a  poor  ex- 
change for  your  own,  Sturdy." 

"  But  there  are  two  things  I  will  not  have.  I  will 
not  have  you  stinted  in  the  luxuries  you  are  used  to, 
and  I  will  not  have  you  spend  a  groschen  on  extras 
for  me.  It  may  be  silly  to  draw  the  line  just  there ; 
but  you  must  give  me  the  satisfaction  of  drawing  it 
emphatically  somewhere.  Would  sixty  marks  do,  do 
you  think  ? — or — or  seventy  ?" 

"Easily,"  he  said  somewhat  recklessly,  "so  far 
as  that  goes.  We  must  spend  the  first  night  in 
Dresden ;  but  after  that  we  shall  sleep  at  little 
country-places,  where  you  can  get  a  room  in  a  cot- 
tage if  you  like;  and  all  our  meals  will  be  al  fresco 
and  ^  la  carte.  You  can  spend  exactly  what  you 
choose." 

"Then  you  really  mean  to  take  me?" 

He  looked  perplexed.  "  God  bless  my  soul,  child, 
I  shall  be  only  too  glad,  if  you  are  sure  you  want  to 
come. 

Sturdy  was  very  far  from  being  a  plain  woman 
just  then.  "  Don't  you  see,"  she  said  persuasively, 
leaning  forward  in  her  chair  and  clasping  her  knee, 
"don't  you  see  what  an  education  it  would  be  for 
me?  It  would  widen  my  horizon  for  all  the  rest  of 
my  life." 

His  face  brightened ;  and,  springing  to  her  feet, 


226  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

she  clapped  her  hands  with  the  most  girlish  move- 
ment he  had  ever  seen  in  her. 

"Who  says  life's  not  worth  living?"  she  cried. 
*'0h,  it  will  be  lovely,  perfectly  lovely!  I  shall 
dream  of  it  day  and  night  till  it  comes." 

Half  an  hour  later  she  went  with  him  to  the 
door.  They  had  made  all  necessary  arrangements, 
but  she  still  seemed  to  have  something  on  her 
mind. 

"  And — my  frock  ?  "  she  stammered  desperately  at 
last.     "  Is  it — what  you  meant  ? " 

"  It  is  an  inspiration  !  "  he  said  heartily.  "  So 
that  is  why  your  room  was  full  of  the  suggestion  of 
willows  and  birches  and  alders  and  all  sorts  of  shim- 
mery  things.  And  I  see  you  have  learnt  how  to 
treat  that  tawny  mane  of  yours.  You  are  a  woman 
of  genius,  Sturdy." 


xr. 

Did  ever  the  sun  shine  before  as  it  shone  that 
fresh  May  morning  ?  There  was  no  doubt  about  it, 
no  uncertainty,  no  coquetry  on  the  part  of  fair  young 
Nature.  Without  waiting  for  tears  and  entreaties, 
she  threw  abroad  with  unsparing  hand  a  glorious 
expanse  of  blue,  and  smiled  down  on  her  children 
with  all  the  warmth  and  brightness  of  her  great 
mother  heart. 

The  night-watchman  duly  earned  his  Trinkgeld, 
and  Sturdy  gave  it  with  all  good  will ;  but  it  was 
money  thrown  away  so    far  as  she  was  concerned. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


227 


Five  o'clock  indeed  !  The  first  glimpse  of  daylight 
had  found  her  on  her  knees  at  the  window,  her 
heart  full  of  thanksgiving  for  so  great  a  boon.  She 
slept  with  one  eye  open  after  that — What  if  the 
night-watchman  should  forget  ? — And,  before  the 
door-bell  rang,  she  had  warmed  her  coffee,  and 
was  packing  the  tiny  satchel  which  constituted  her 
luggage.  She  was  almost  startled  when  she  caught 
sight  of  her  face  in  the  glass.  "  Yes,  yes ! "  she 
cried,  nodding  back  to  the  radiant  image,  "  if  this 
is  the  end  of  all  things — it  is  worth  it.  You  and  I 
can  never  complain  !  " 

It  was  good  to  see  other  tourists  astir  ;  Sturdy 
was  still  too  young  to  be  exclusive  in  her  enjoy- 
ments ;  and  oh,  how  good  it  was  to  see  the  carts 
coming  in  to  town  laden  with  the  birch  and  poplar 
that  were  to  decorate  the  houses  for  the  festival ! 
She  kept  quoting  to  herself,  "  The  mountains  and 
the  hills  shall  break  forth  before  you  into  singing, 
and  all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap  their  hands," 
which  of  course  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  case — 
except  in  her  own  mind. 

Even  she  was  rather  appalled,  however,  when — 
having  met  Ned  at  the  appointed  corner  —  she 
caught  sight  of  the  crowded  excursion  train. 

"  Oh,  how  could  I  let  you  in  for  this ! "  she 
groaned  in  self-reproach. 

He  nodded  reassuringly.  "  All  right !  "  he  said, 
"we'll  manage." 

And  it  was  all  right,  unless  something  was  morally 
wrong,  of  which  she  had  no  suspicion.  All  she  could 
say  was  that  the  guard  seemed  unusually  interested 


228  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

in  their  select  party,  and  hastened  to  unlock  a  spe- 
cial carriage  when  they  came  up. 

"What  luck!"  she  cried  in  delighted  surprise; 
and  Ned  was  well  content  to  agree  with  her. 

Then  her  face  grew  grave.  "  Don't  you  think," 
she  said  shyly,  "  it  would  be  simpler  to  settle  up 
as  we  go  along  ?  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what 
you  paid  for  my  ticket  ?  " 

His  exclamation  was  not  intended  for  her 
ears. 

"  I  do,  very  much,"  he  growled,  "  Look  here. 
Sturdy,  you  will  drive  me  mad  if  you  go  on  like  this. 
Let  us  pay  for    things  alternately.      I    have  taken 

the  tickets.      Now  it   is  your   turn.      We  want 

Hang  it,  what  do  we  want  ?  Don't  you  think  we 
should  have  a  time-table  ? " 

•"  I  do,"  she  responded  drily,  "  and  I  see  one 
sticking  out  of  your  pocket.  No,  no,"  she  con- 
tinued coaxingly,  "  I  am  frightfully  sorry  to  worry 
you ;  but  it  can't  be  helped.  Please  don't  think 
I  don't  see  how  much  greater  the  kindness  is  on 
your  part  when  you  let  me — have  my  own 
way !  " 

This  was  somewhat  involved,  but  it  served  its 
purpose,  and  he  remonstrated  no  more.  For  the 
rest  of  the  tour  money  matters  were  settled  be- 
tween them  with  strict  accuracy  as  a  matter  of 
course. 

Ned's  rooms  in  Dresden  were  already  taken,  and 
he  had  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  possession 
of  them  a  few  days  earlier  than  the  date  originally 
agreed   upon ;    so    he    conducted    Sturdy    there   at 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP, 


229 


once,  and  then  betook  himself  to  the  nearest 
hotel. 

"  I  will  call  for  you  in  half  an  hour,"  he  had 
said,  "  and  we  will  lunch  on  the  Terrasse.  You 
will  like  that,  won't  you  ?" 

Sturdy,  of  course,  would  have  liked  anything 
just  then,  but  the  sight  that  greeted  them  when 
they  ascended  the  broad  stone  steps  was  one  to 
gladden  the  heart  of  even  the  d/as^  tourist. 

The  Whitsuntide  sun  overhead  seemed  to  charm 
forth  every  latent  touch  of  colour  in  town  and 
tree  and  river ;  gay  little  pleasure  craft  plied  up 
and  down ;  and  on  the  fine  spacious  terrace  a 
crowd  of  people  in  fresh  spring  attire  lounged 
and  strolled  and  ate  and  drank  and  smoked — and 
basked  in  the  sunshine,  like  lizards  on  a  mellow 
south  wall. 

The  whole  scene  was  somewhat  of  a  contrast  to 
Sturdy's  garret  in  a  back  street  of  Berlin  ! 

She  had  gone  through  many  searchings  of  heart 
on  the  question  of  dress.  The  temptation  to  don 
the  pretty  new  gown  which  Ned  had  admired 
seemed  at  first  to  come  straight  from  the  evil 
one  ;  to  wear  it  on  a  walking-tour  was  to  abjure 
all  the  most  sacred  principles  of  her  upbringing; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  gratitude  was  a  moral 
duty  too,  and  the  only  way  in  which  she  could 
show  her  gratitude  to  her  friend  was  to  do  him 
as  little  discredit  as  possible.  So  the  green  gown 
was  duly  laid  out  on  Friday  night.  A  simple 
sailor  hat,  rejuvenated  with  a  fresh  ribbon,  was 
too  obviously  suitable  to  require  much  meditation; 


230 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


and  Sturdy  had  completed  her  preparations  by  the 
poor  woman's  invariable  extravagance — the  purchase 
of  a  new  pair  of  gloves. 

Of  course  in  the  end  she  did  not  enter  into  any 
sort  of  comparison  with  well-dressed  women  ;  but — 
in  that  cosmopolitan  gathering — she  looked  at  least 
like  a  wholesome  purposeful  English  girl. 

Ned  had  mixed  but  little  with  his  kind  of  late 
years,  or  he  might  well  have  been  recognised  by 
some  chance  lounger.  As  it  was,  the  strange  couple 
passed  almost  unnoticed.  To  any  but  the  casual 
observer  the  combination  might  have  seemed  a  curi- 
ous one,  but  there  was  safety  in  the  fact  that  Sturdy, 
as  she  expressed  it,  was  "  not  the  sort  of  girl  men 
think  about." 

Indeed  she  became  a  little  too  painfully  aware  of 
this  fact  for  her  own  peace  of  mind,  as  her  eye  dwelt 
on  the  elegant  women  of  all  nationalities  who  flitted 
about  the  terrace  like  birds  of  rare  plumage.  Not 
one  of  them,  she  reflected,  would  look  out  of  place 
in  Ned's  society.  Though  unconventional  in  the 
details  of  his  attire,  he  could  rank  with  the  best; 
whereas  she !  At  the  Conservatorium,  the  stu- 
dio, she  had  a  niche  of  her  own,  but  what  was  she 
doing  here  ? 

His  cheerful  voice  broke  in  on  her  doleful  mus- 
ing. 

"Well,  madam,  shall  we  fall  to? — you  to  your 
dinner  of  herbs,  and  I  to  my  stalled  ox  ?  Does  this 
table  meet  your  views  ?    Kellner  !  " 

But  that  first  meal  was  certainly  not  a  success. 
A  good  holiday  is  very  apt  to  make  a  false  start. 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


231 


Sturdy  was  now  fairly  in  the  grip  of  an  uncontrol- 
lable fit  of  shyness,  and  Ned — well,  Ned  was  only  a 
man  after  all,  and  he  found  himself  wondering  what 
in  the  world  had  induced  him  to  play  this  extraordi- 
nary prank. 

All  through  the  afternoon  the  stiffness  lasted. 
Her  over-acute  perceptions  exaggerated  the  vague 
dissatisfaction  of  his  mood,  and  at  the  picture-gal- 
leries she  scarcely  dared  to  open  her  lips  lest  an  ill- 
advised  remark  should  add  to  the  irritation  against 
which  she  imagined  him  to  be  struggling. 

And  then,  almost  with  relief,  she  saw  the  well- 
known  lines  of  physical  weariness  on  his  face. 

"  I  am  tired,"  she  said  quickly.  "  I  should  like 
to  go  to  my  own  rooms  and  rest  a  bit." 

His  face  brightened,  and  he  looked  at  her  with 
the  old  fatherly  smile. 

"  Tired  ! "  he  said  kindly.  "  You,  Sturdy  !  Well, 
I  hope  you  will  make  a  note  of  the  fact  in  your  diary. 
First  time  in  your  Hfe,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Not  quite;  but  I  am  afraid  you  won't  find  me 
a  very  energetic  companion.  I  feel  so  lazy  some- 
how." 

"  Poor  little  soul !  The  child  has  simply  been 
working  herself  to  death.  Never  fear,  Sturdy.  My 
demands  on  you  won't  be  heavy.  Go  and  lie  down 
for  an  hour  or  two,  and  we'll  meet  about  six  in  our 
own  corner  of  the  Terrasse." 

But,  when  she  reached  her  apartments,  it  was 
only  to  pace  untiringly  with  furrowed  brow  up  and 
down  the  long  length  of  her  luxurious  sitting- 
room. 


232 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  It  is  no  use,"  she  said  desperately  at  last,  "I 
must  go  back  to  Berlin  to-night." 

Why,  Sturdy,  why  ?  Do  you  regret  that  you  have 
compromised  that  poor  little  reputation  of  yours, 
which  nevertheless  is  of  more  value  than  you  can 
even  imagine  just  now  ? 

Not  so.  For  better  or  worse  that  view  of  the 
question  never  so  much  as  entered  her  mind.  She 
was  only  afraid  that  there  was  not  enough  good  stuff 
in  her  to  stand  the  strain  of  three  or  four  days'  com- 
panionship,— afraid  that  she  would  irritate  her  friend, 
rasp  him,  worry  him,  with  hergaucherie  and  stupidity 
and  ugliness. 

She  was  overstrained,  of  course,  with  all  the 
excitement  of  expectation  in  which  she  had  lived 
through  the  last  few  days ;  but  she  had  not  learned 
to  allow  for  that;  and  she  only  attained  something 
like  peace  of  mind  by  resolving  to  tell  Ned  as  soon  as 
they  met  that  she  must  return  to  Berlin  that  night. 

Poor  little  Sturdy !  It  was  a  heroic  resolution  in 
its  way,  and,  having  made  it,  she  laid  her  head  on 
her  arm  for  a  quiet  cry  ;  but  before  the  tears  had 
time  to  come,  the  heroine  was  fast  asleep. 

It  was  not  characteristic  of  her  to  be  late  for  an 
appointment,  and  the  look  of  relief  on  Ned's  face 
when  she  appeared  induced  her  to  postpone  for  a 
few  minutes  the  weighty  communication  with  which 
she  was  charged. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  said  simply.  "  I  fell  asleep," 
and  then  she  sat  quite  still,  and  so  unwittingly  gave 
herself  up  to  the  soothing  magic  influences  of  the 
evening. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


233 


Such  an  evening  !  The  sun  was  setting  radiantly, 
but  the  air  was  still  warm  and  soft,  and  the  distant 
strains  of  the  orchestra  seemed  to  her  to  give  voice 
to  a  scene  that  was  wanting  in  nothing  else. 

Night  came  on  slowly  that  cloudless  Whitsuneve; 
but  at  last,  as  the  shadows  darkened,  gay  lamps 
flashed  out  among  the  trees  on  the  terrace,  and 
the  river  was  all  alive  with  vivid  touches  of  red  and 
green. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried  at  last,  "  what  a  good  thing  fri- 
volity is !  " 

Ned  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Come,  that's  right!  I  was  afraid  you  were 
going  to  be  intense," 

"  I  am  afraid  I  was — a  little,"  she  confessed  peni- 
tently. "  I  was  going  to  say  that  all  these  pretty 
things — the  lights  and  the  music,  and  the  rustle 
of  the  wind  among  the  trees — only  make  me 
more  determined  to  do  something, — not  just  to 
drift." 

He  helped  himself  to  compdte. 

"  The  physical  excitement  of  adolescence,  my 
child,"  he  said  calmly.  "We  all  have  to  go  through 
it.  It  just  happens  to  take  you  in  that  particular 
way.  But  there  is  nothing  to  be  alarmed  about. 
It  will  pass.  Have  some  beer;  it  is  an  excellent 
sedative." 

"Sedative!"  she  repeated  scornfully.  "I  have 
been  taking  sedatives  all  my  life.  I  mean  to  live 
now.  We  are  always  complaining  that  we  ask  for 
bread  and  receive  a  stone;  but  it  happens  occasion- 
ally too  that  someone  says,  *  It  is  not  bread  you  want ; 


234 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


it  is  air.  Breathe ! '  That  is  what  you  have  done 
for  me.     You  have  given  me  air." 

He  slapped  his  poor  chest  with  a  laugh  that 
seemed  to  her  sadder  than  tears.  "  Come ! "  he 
said;  "I  appreciate  the  metaphor  keenly,  I  have 
so  little  accommodation  for  air  myself  !  " 

Wildly  she  searched  for  a  suitable  reply,  but  the 
obvious  thought  that  many  men  have  sound  lungs 
for  one  whose  moral  presence  is  to  his  fellows  like  a 
mountain  breeze  came  limping  into  her  mind  too  late 
to  be  of  use. 

His  eyes  overflowed  with  quiet  fun. 

"Well,  my  child,"  he  said,  "if  you  have  quite 
given  up  the  search  for  that  pleasing  platitude,  we'll 
go  indoors  to  the  concert.  There  is  something  com- 
ing on  that  I  want  you  to  hear. 

"  You  must  not  imagine,"  he  continued  cheerfully, 
"  that  my  acquaintances  are  neglectful  of  my  best 
interests.  Whenever  it  gets  wind  that  I  am  laid  up 
with  a  chill,  the  tracts  and  booklets  begin  to  pour 
in.  I  am  stacking  them  in  the  cellar  now  at  home. 
I  have  a  pretty  good  idea  how  a  man  feels  who  is 
dying  by  inches   in   the   desert,  with  the  birds  of 

prey Come,  make  haste  !     They  are  beginning 

that  Pizzicato." 

And  it  was  not  till  Sturdy  awoke  next  morning 
in  the  sunshine  that  she  bethought  herself  of  her; 
heroic  resolution. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


XII. 


235 


But  I  lay  down  my  pen  in  despair  when  I  think 
of  the  days  that  followed.  It  is  easy  to  write  a 
record  of  journey  and  resting-place,  of  the  trifling 
incidents  of  travel ;  but  what  idea  can  such  things 
give  of  the  way  in  which  these  two  walked  hand  in 
hand  into  the  temple  of  nature  ?  From  one  point  of 
view,  of  course,  Ned  had  everything  to  give.  His 
was  the  eye  that  saw  the  great  white  clouds  surge 
seething  up  as  if  from  a  giant's  cauldron,  that  read 
the  subtle  secrets  of  light  and  shade,  and  all  the 
wondrous  mystery  contained  in  the  brooding  mellow 
glow  of  the  atmosphere.  He  was  the  one  to  see  the 
brilliant  touch  of  colour  in  a  cranny  of  the  wall,  or 
the  mass  of  soft  green  tracery  escaping  from  be- 
neath a  dripping  stone.  Sturdy  saw  nothing  at  first, 
—the  tide  of  life  and  beauty  swept  over  her  head 
and  surged  in  her  ears,  making  her  stupid  and 
speechless;  but  it  is  something  to  initiate  into  the 
mysteries  of  one's  religion  a  novice  of  such  recep- 
tiveness. 

And  all  this  in  Saxon  Switzerland  ? 

Even  so,  fastidious  reader ;  all  this  in  Saxon 
Switzerland ;  and  I  don't  suppose  it  was  needful  to 
go  so  far,  A  bit  of  breezy  moorland  where  the 
cotton-grass  flutters  in  the  wind,  or  a  clover-field 
and  hedgerow  in  June,  have  done  as  much  for  some 
men.  There  are  those  who  can  enter  the  kingdom 
even  through  a  needle's  eye. 

It  began  that  Sunday  afternoon,  as  they  sailed 
up  the  river  in  the  soft  radiant  sunshine.  Those 
16 


236  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

wooded  heights,  broken  here  and  there  by  field  and 
vineyard,  or  ruddy  sandstone  cliff,  wear  many  festal 
garbs  as  the  year  rolls  round;  but  I  think  one  comes 
at  last  to  love  them  best  as  the  travellers  saw  them 
that  day, — with  the  evening  light  playing  through 
tracery  not  yet  quite  concealed  by  tender  green,  call- 
ing into  view,  and  then  throwing  into  deeper  shadov/, 
the  mystical  recesses  behind. 

The  sun  had  almost  set  when  the  fortress  of 
Konigstein  loomed  into  view.  "Not  a  minute  too 
soon,"  said  Ned,  "  for  my  retina  is  in  a  state  of  ex- 
treme collapse ;  "  and  then  Sturdy  ventured  to  con- 
fess that  for  the  moment  she  had  almost  drunk  her 
fill  of  beauty  too. 

"  So  we'll  make  straight  tracks  for  the  inn,  my 
child,  and  get  them  to  recommend  a  decent  cottage 
for  you." 

But  they  were  reckoning  literally  without  their 
host.  The  glorious  weather  had  tempted  forth  an 
even  greater  number  of  tourists  than  usual,  and  not 
only  were  the  inns  full  to  overflowing,  but  there  was 
not  a  bed  to  be  had  in  the  place.  For  half  an  hour 
they  tramped  about,  verifying  the  landlord's  state- 
ment to  this  effect,  and  then  with  delight  they  espied 
an  amateur-looking  notice  of  a  room  to  let. 

But  the  notice  proved  somewhat  deceptive.  The 
woman  who  answered  their  knock  assured  them  with 
beaming  face  that  she  had  let  her  room  hours  before. 

"  Herr  Gott!"  she  went  on  to  her  husband  in  a 
loud  aside,  "  was  it  not  like  English  people  to  expect 
every  convenience  at  the  eleventh  hour  when  they 
had  not  taken  the  least  trouble  to  secure  it ! " 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  237 

"  Can't  you  at  least  take  my  sister  in  ?  "  said  Ned. 
"She  will  put  up  with  the  couch  in  the  kitchen  here, 
or  anything, — won't  you  ? " 

But  the  woman  shook  her  head.  "  A  gentleman 
has  bespoken  that  already,"  she  said.  "  I  daresay  he 
wouldn't  object  to  my  making  up  another  bed  for 
you  J  but  the  lady " 

"  There  is  only  one  thing  the  lady  can  do,"  inter- 
rupted the  Hausherr,  looking  up  from  his  supper.  "A 
friend  of  mine  has  a  barn  where  tourists — oh,  ganz 
vornehme  Leutc,  I  assure  you — have  been  glad  to  sleep 
before  now.  Your  Frdulein  sister  " — this  with  a  curi- 
ous glance  at  Sturdy,  of  which  she  was  quite  uncon- 
scious— "  would  find  the  straw  very  comfortable  and 
beautifully  clean." 

"  No,  no,"  began  Ned  emphatically ;  but  Sturdy 
laid  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Please,  please ! "  she  protested  with  sparkling 
eyes.  "  I  should  like  it  of  all  things.  Don't  say 
no!" 

So  he  consented  at  least  to  inspect  the  barn.  It 
was  approached  by  a  sort  of  hen's  ladder,  and  proved 
to  be  a  queer  old  place, — large  and  draughty  and 
fairly  cl^an,  "  but  not  quite  up  to  modern  notions  of 
a  boudoir." 

"Rats  ?"  he  enquired  in  expressive  Volapuk. 

"  No,"  was  the  doubtful  response,  "or  very  few. 
Two  other  ladies  are  going  to  sleep  there." 

This  altered  the  aspect  of  affairs ;  and  indeed  it 
was  a  case  of  Hobson's  choice,  so  they  were  fain  to 
accept  the  owner's  somewhat  exorbitant  terms. 

Ned  looked  rather  unhappy,  but  his  great  blue 


238 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


eyes  brimmed  over  with  laughter  as  they  turned 
away. 

"Well,  this  is  the  rummiest  go,  Sturdy,"  he  said. 
"  Invaluable  to  you  who  are  so  bent  upon  *  living.' 
Of  course  it  will  add  enormously  to  your  market 
value  as  a  human  being  to  have  gone  through  the 
traditional  heroic  experience  of  sleeping  in  a  barn. 
Consuelo  did  something  of  the  kind,  if  I  remember 
rightly ;  but  I  am  afraid  you  will  have  to  paraphrase 
the  episode  a  bit  in  your  home  letters." 

She  laughed  lightheartedly.  Even  home  letters 
seemed  a  long,  long  way  off  just  now. 

They  walked  on  in  silence,  following  the  course 
of  a  babbling  brook  along  the  foot  of  the  valley. 
Steep  hills  wooded  to  the  very  top  crowded  in  on 
every  side  of  them,  and,  although  the  sun  had  set, 
the  sky  seemed  as  light  as  day  above  the  gloom  of 
the  fir-trees. 

The  air,  too,  was  still  steeped  in  noontide  warmth, 
so  they  supped  and  rested  in  the  garden  of  a  way- 
side restaurant ;  and  then  strolled  back  in  the  vivid 
moonlight,  watching  the  tiny  waterfalls  flash  out 
white  and  dazzling  from  the  deep,  shadowed  pools 
above  them.  » 

"  Let  us  go  down  to  the  Elbe  again,"  said  Ned. 
"The  night  will  be  long  enough  at  the  best  in  those 
princely  quarters  of  ours.  The  river  ought  to  be 
lovely  just  now." 

And  so  it  proved. 

The  moon  had  risen  high  above  the  fortress,  and 
the  surrounding  hills  and  trees  were  reflected  in  the 
water  with  a  distinctness  that  was  almost  unearthly. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


239 


A  ferry-boat  was  moored  to  the  shore,  and  they  took 
possession  of  it  at  once,  Ned  stretching  out  his  long 
limbs  in  the  bottom,  while  Sturdy  curled  herself  up 
in  the  stern.  And  the  boat  rocked  to  and  fro  in  the 
silence  of  the  night. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  either  of  them  spoke. 

"  I  wish — — "  said  Sturdy  at  last. 

"  Yes  ? " 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  do  wish  you  would  tell 
me  who  is  your  favourite  poet." 

"  Spare  me,  my  child !  And  yet  I  suppose  one 
must  pay  the  penalty  of  bringing  a  young  woman  out 
in  the  moonlight.  I  know  yours,  if  that  is  what  you 
mean." 

"Who?" 

"  Browning." 

"  However  did  you  guess  ?  " 

"  Curious,  isn't  it  ?  Such  an  unusual  taste  in  the 
youth  of  the  present  day  !  " 

'*  I  can  guess  yours  too,"  she  boasted  recklessly. 

"  Fire  away." 

"  Oh — Blake — or  Rossetti — or  one  of  those  people 
that  life  is  too  short  to  read." 

"  They  would  be  flattered,  I  am  sure,  by  the  de- 
scription. No,  madam,  my  tastes  happen  to  be 
primitive.  If  it  will  do  you  any  good  to  know  it,  my 
favourite  poet  is  Wordsworth." 

"  Wordsworth  V 

"Even  so.     Never  heard  his  name,  I  suppose?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  We  used  to  read  his  poems  at 
school.  Lucy  Gray  and  We  are  Seven  and  *  the  lamb 
behind   the   hedge.' "     She    paused,   and  continued 


240  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

with  emphasis,  "  No,  I  can't  think  what  you  see  in 
them." 

"  Doubtless.  So  most  of  the  trippers  think,  I 
suppose,  who  this  very  Whitsunday  are  trampling 
down  the  creamy  tufty  umbels  in  Grassmere  church- 
yard, and  chucking  their  orange-peel  into  the  'mur- 
muring Rothay.' " 

"Ofx:ourseI  know  he  has  written  fine  things," 
she  answered  with  some  natural  resentment. 

"  '  They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye 
That  is  the  bliss  of  solitude.' 

"  That  is  by  him,  isn't  it  ? " 

"Is  it?"  he  responded  tantalizingly  with  the 
nervous  susceptibility  of  the  fervent  disciple.  "  One 
of  his  less  known  poems,  I  think.  How  does  it  go 
on  ? — 

And  then  my  heart  with  pleasure  ups 
And  dances  with  the  buttercups, 

or  something  to  that  effect." 

She  did  not  answer. 

"He  is  a  beast,  isn't  he.  Sturdy?  Never  mind. 
You  and  I  will  have  a  dip  into  Wordsworth  one  of 
these  days,  and  see  what  we  can  make  of  him.  I 
didn't  say  I  believed  in  his  plenary  inspiration." 

The  sound  of  passing  footsteps  startled  them, 
and  they  turned  their  heads  to  see  a  man  and 
woman  with  arms  thrown  round  each  other  affec- 
tionately. 

Ned  settled  himself  into  a  comfortable  attitude 
again.      "  Curious,"   he   said    philosophically,   "  the 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  24I 

tendency  people  show  at  holiday  times  to  walk  about 
in  couples." 

"  Very  curious." 

"Isn't  it  a  comfort,  Sturdy,  that  you  and  I 
haven't  the  smallest  tendency  to  be — sentimental  ? " 

"  Great  comfort,"  she  assented  conventionally. 

"  Now  these  poor  souls  imagine  they  are  enjoy- 
ing the  moonlight  and  the  hills  and  the  trees  and 
the  river,  but  all  the  time  they  are  only  enjoying 
themselves.  What  they  are  pleased  to  call  their  love 
blots  out  all  the  subtle  shades  that  are  a  joy  to  you 
and  me.     I  think  we  have  the  best  of  it,  don't  you  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  /  have  the  best  of  it,"  she  answered 
humbly,  and  then  went  on  with  dogged  conscien- 
tiousness. "And  yet  you  know  I  don't  quite  agree 
with  you.  I  think  it  is  a  temptation  of  the  devil  to 
shut  out  sentiment  altogether.  When  all  is  said,  sen- 
timent is  one  side  of  life,  and  we  are  bound  to  foster 
it — while  we  keep  it  in  subjection — even  though 
there  seems  little  prospect  that  it  will  ever — get  a 
chance — to  bear  fruit." 

He  did  not  dare  to  follow  this  up.  It  might 
mean  anything  or  nothing ;  but  of  one  thing  he  was 
certain, — Sturdy  formed  a  very  attractive  picture 
curled  up  there  in  the  stern,  with  the  moonlight 
frosting  the  willow-green  gown,  and  he  was  almost 
beginning  to  feel  the  inroads  of  sentiment  himself. 

The  silence  was  so  long  that  he  was  constrained 
to  drop  a  plummet  into  its  depths. 

"  In  tune  with  your  surroundings,  little  one  ?"  he 
asked. 

Her  answer  came  dreamily,  after  a  pause. 


242 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  Absolutely." 

"Can  you  give  them  a  voice?" 

She  laughed  shyly.  "  I  can  tell  you  the  words 
that  were  in  my  mind,  though  they  were  not  Brown- 
ing's— nor  Wordsworth's.  Look ! "  The  moon 
stepped  out  grandly  above  the  fir-trees  without  so 
much  as  a  wisp  of  white  cloud  in  her  train.  " '  That 
we  may  walk  with  perfect  hearts  before  Thee  now 
and  evermore! ' " 

Ned  felt  an  inconsistent,  unreasoning  sense  of 
disappointment. 

"  What  a  confirmed  moralist  the  child  is ! "  he 
said  almost  irritably. 

"  That  is  not  morality,"  she  answered  quickly. 
"  I  suppose  it  is  what  you  call — sentiment.  I  should 
think  the  very  stones  in  the  river  must  feel  to-night 
that  the  Lord  has  lifted  up  the  light  of  His  counte- 
nance upon  them." 

The  year  was  at  the  Spring ;  the  world  was  white 
with  a  wealth  of  blossom;  and  Sturdy  rejoiced  in 
the  blossom  without  so  much  as  hearing  the  whis- 
per of  fruit  at  its  heart. 

It  was  not  a  night  to  be  soon  forgotten  by  either 
of  them. 

"  You  at  least  have  the  advantage  of  being  pic- 
turesque," Ned  remarked  half  enviously.  "  I  am 
simply,  prosaically  squalid." 

And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  had  the  best 
of  it.  The  flood  of  moonlight  outside  streamed 
through  every  hole  and  cranny  in  the  old-world 
barn  ;  the  place  was  very  quiet,  yet  "  full  o'  noises  " ; 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


243 


and  from  time  to  time  the  sleepers  were  startled  by 
the  hooting  of  an  owl  away  up  among  the  cobwebby 
rafters  overhead. 

Sturdy  slept  like  a  child, — waking  up  now  and 
then  to  count  her  happiness,  but  soon  falling  asleep 
again  to  dream  of  it  once  more. 


XIII. 

How  the  sun  did  stream  through  the  chinks  of 
the  barn  next  morning ! — and  what  a  world  met 
Sturdy's  eyes  when  she  threw  open  the  rickety  door ! 
She  hastened  to  make  such  a  toilet  as  was  possible 
under  the  circumstances,  and  then  went  to  meet  Ned 
at  the  inn.  , 

Life  did  indeed  seem  very  good.  The  air  was  so 
fresh,  the  coffee  so  fragrant,  the  sunshine  so  full  of 
glee  and  expectancy,  and  the  tall  lanky  figure — 
bending  over  its  Baedeker,  unconscious  of  her  ap- 
proach— surely  the  one  of  all  those  men  that  any 
woman  might  choose  to  be  going  to  meet. 

Certainly  few  of  them  had  such  a  greeting  to  be- 
stow on  their  womankind. 

"  Well,  little  lass  !  "  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet 
with  unusual  energy,  and  placing  a  chair  for  her. 
"Is  it  all  right?" 

Her  beaming  face  certainly  did  not  betoken  much 
amiss. 

"  I  am  longing  to  hear  your  adventures.  Were 
there  any  rats  ? " 


244 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"  Oh,  I  forgot  about  the  rats.  No,  I  dor^'t  think 
so.     Only  an  owl.     Such  a  dear  owl !  " 

"  And  was  the  straw  very  hot  and  prickly  about 
your  ears  ?  I  blamed  myself  so  for  not  lending  you 
my  big  silk  handkerchief." 

"  What  a  very  kind  thought !  But  I  didn't  want 
it  at  all,  thank  you." 

"  And  did  you  contrive  to  get  any  sleep  ? " 

"  More  than  I  needed.  I  was  happy  enough  to 
lie  awake  all  night." 

"  You  are  a  woman  to  go  through  a  siege  with, 
Sturdy." 

He  had  been  standing  over  her,  looking  down 
at  her  bright  face  with  eager  interest,  but  now  he 
dropped  into  his  chair  again,  and  called  for  coffee. 

"  Lovely  morning,  isn't  it  ? "  he  said. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "the  air  is  li^^e  music.  It  is  all 
that  I  can  do  to  keep  my  feet  from  dancing." 

"  I  have  been  discussing  our  itinerary  with  the 
landlord,  and  he  strongly  advises  us  to  drive  the 
first  part  of  the  day.  Your  time  is  so  short,  we 
should  make  the  most  of  it.  So  I  have  ordered  a 
*  trap — will  you  come  with  me,  or  does  your  Inde- 
pendence elect  to  follow  on  behind?" 

"  My  independence  may  '  gang  its  ain  gait,'  "  she 
answered,  smiling.     "  I  shall  do  as  I  am  asked." 

Her  eyes  sparkled  with  naive  delight  when  the 
"trap  "  appeared. 

"  Is  that  for  us  ?  Why,  I  never  drove  in  a  car- 
riage and  pair  in  my  life  before !  " 

"Then  I  hope  you  won't  judge  of  the  experience 
by  this  old  shanderadan."     But  he  looked   at  her 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP,  245 

almost  envyingly  as  he  thought  how  often  he  had 
loathed  the  monotony  of  his  daily  drive  in  the  luxu- 
rious barouche  at  home. 

"After  all,",  he  said  with  a  sigh,  "half  the  world 
has  things,  and  the  other  half  enjoys  them." 

They  drove  up  the  hill  to  the  fortress,  catching 
a  glimpse  every  now  and  then  of  the  sunny  Elbe 
valley  between  the  trees,  and  the  smiling  country 
beyond.  Then  they  passed  under  the  ominous- 
looking  portcullis,  and  found  themselves  in  what 
seemed  to  Sturdy  a  very  focus  of  history. 

Ned  was  not  a  little  amused  by  the  conscientious 
method  with  which  she  attacked  the  fortress.  She 
borrowed  his  watch,  as  hers  had  no  second-hand,  to 
time  the  jugful  of  water  on  its  way  down  the  well, 
and  she  duly  drank  her  share  of  the  tubful  they  saw 
drawn  up.  Not  all  her  amazement  at  the  beauty  of 
the  view  from  the  ramparts  could  prevent  her  from 
studiously  identifying  the  place  where  the  chimney- 
sweep climbed  up,  and  also  the  spot  where  the 
Englishman  threw  himself  down.  ("  An  English- 
man, of  course,"  said  Ned  with  a  shrug.)  She  care- 
fully examined  the  tree  under  which  the  captives 
concealed  the  knotted  string  of  towels  that  was  to 
prove  the  means  of  their  escape;  and  she  strove  to 
secrete  a  tear — so  he  declared — at  the  sight  of  the 
white  cross  in  the  little  cemetery  away  down  beyond 
the  fortress  walls.  She  was  hard  at  work  over  the 
remains  of  Gambrinus  and  the  beer-cask  when  Ned 
insisted  on  driving  on. 

His  friendly  chaff  and  her  shy  good-humoured 
acceptance  of  it  drew  them  nearer  together  than  the 


246  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

prettiest  speeches  could  have  done,  and  there  was 
little  need  for  words  between  them  as  they  drove 
through  the  balmy  golden  air.  How  different  the 
wooded  slopes  looked  to-day  in  the  friendly  sun- 
shine! No  longer  gathering  close  round  the  valley, 
full  of  gloom  and  mystery,  but  standing  back  and 
laughing  up  to  the  blue  sky  overhead.  An  unbroken 
line  of  firs  fringed  the  ridge,  but  lower  down  the 
dainty  birch  and  beech  tossed  out  their  fresh  spring 
tracery  against  the  darker  green  behind. 

Then  the  rocks  began  to  rise  like  gigantic  pillars, 
too  steep  for  vegetation  ;  but  from  every  cleft  or 
cranny  some  willowy  green  thing  raised  its  daring 
head ;  and,  away  up  in  mid-air,  the  sun  flashed 
through  the  spray  of  a  waterfall  as  it  leapt  from 
rock  to  rock,  transforming  it  into  a  shower  of  dia- 
monds. 

It  was  well  perhaps  that,  after  they  had  stopped 
to  bait  at  Schweizermiihle,  their  route  led  them 
through  flat,  uninteresting  country,  and  so  gave  their 
receptive  powers  a  chance  to  recuperate ;  but  their 
joy  was  great  when  they  found  themselves  among 
the  pine-woods  again. 

"  Now  we  are  in  Bohemia,"  said  the  driver,  point- 
ing with  his  whip  to  a  green  and  white  post,  fol- 
lowed almost  immediately  by  a  black  and  yellow 
one. 

"  Only  now  ? "  thought  Ned,  with  an  odd  little 
smile. 

But  Sturdy  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  looked  round 
as  though  she  expected  the  trees  to  be  of  a  different 
colour.    "  Are  we  really  ?  "  she  cried — "  really  ?    How 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  247 

wonderful !  "  and  then  her  enthusiasm  ran  almost  too 
deep  for  words  again,  as  they  passed  a  rude  shrine 
by  the  roadside.  Two  peasant  women  stood  before 
it,  crossing  themselves  devoutly. 

"  It  is  as  if  we  had  gone  back  hundreds  of  years," 
she  said  with  bated  breath,  "  into  the  days  of  ro- 
mance and  chivalry  and  beauty.  It  is  like  Quentin 
Durward  and  Anne  of  Geierstein  and — and  Faust.  It's 
like — why,  it  is  just  like  Tannhduser  !  " 

"  It  is  something  to  hear  an  appreciation  of  medi^ 
Eevalism  from  you,  my  child,  who  are  so  emphatically 
the  product  of  your  age." 

Her  face  fell.  "  Am  I  that  ?  I  suppose  so.  Some 
people  are  the  product  of  their  age  because  they 
don't  get  the  chance  to  be  anything  else." 

At  that  moment  the  driver  alighted  to  adjust  a 
bit  of  harness. 

"  Odd,"  he  said  with  a  shrug  of  his  crooked 
shoulders,  and  a  movement  of  his  head  in  the 
direction  of  the  shrine, — "they  still  keep  that  up; 
and  our  own  people  are  not  much  better.  They 
still  believe  Moses  knew  how  the  world  was  made." 

Ned's  eyes  grew  round.  "And  don't  you?"  he 
asked  with  quiet  amusement. 

"  Herr  Jel  We  have  a  reading-club  even  in  K6- 
nigstein,  mein  Herr.  Most  of  them  only  read  nov- 
els and  stories,  but  I  take  out  the  books  that  tell 
how  these  rocks  were  here  millions  and  millions  of 
years  ago,  how  we  men  have  developed  bit  by  bit 
without  any  Herr  Gott  at  all, — and  the  Bible  is  chil- 
dren's tales." 

Involuntarily  Ned  looked  to  Sturdy  for  sympathy, 


248  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

and  their  eyes  met  in  a  quick  flash  of  mutual  com- 
prehension that  was  worth  hours  of  theological  dis- 
cussion. 

Naturally  it  was  lost  upon  the  driver.  He 
mounted  the  box,  but  turned  to  them  again  loqua- 
ciously. 

"  1  try  to  open  their  eyes  a  bit,  but  you  can't  put 
a  quart  into  a  pint  pot.  We  have  great  arguments 
in  the  inn-parlour  sometimes.  The  beer  is  good  and 
the  company  is  good;  and  they  make  me  talk  and 
forget  the  time  till  I  have  to  bustle  home  in  a  hurry.". 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  winked  to  Sturdy.  "  I 
haven't  much  to  say  for  myself  then.  My  wife  does 
the  talking  for  me." 

He  laughed  and  whipped  up  the  horses. 

Ned  turned  to  his  little  companion  with  a  half 
apologetic  smile.  "  Poor  Sturdy,"  he  said,  "  so  much 
for  your  mediaeval  world  !  " 

"Another  product  of  the  age!"  she  responded 
cuttingly;  "but  I  don't  seem  to  have  much  in  com- 
mon with  him  somehow.  And  he  doesn't  affect  my 
mediaeval  world ;  he  only  makes  me  listen  all  the 
harder  for  the  Pilgrim's  Chorus.  It  is  not  poor 
Sturdy ;  it  is  poor  Darwin  !  " 

"  Ah,  I  forgot  that  Huxley  and  Darwin  and  Har- 
riet Martineau  were 'broken  lights'  of  yours!  But 
why  *  poor  '  ?  Is  it  not  the  very  acme  of  success  to 
have  our  views  ground  out  on  a  barrel  organ  or 
piped  on  a  penny  whistle  ?  Doesn't  it  stir  your 
blood  to  think  that  fifty  years  hence  it  may  be  your 
pet  theories  that  are  echoing  on  the  heights  of 
Konigstein?" 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


249 


"  Or  yours." 

'■^Ah!  No,  my  child.  The  gods  have  given  me 
many  good  things ;  but  a  stake  in  the  chances  of  the 
future  is  not  one  of  them." 

"  Oh,  why  don't  you  write  now  2  "  she  broke  forth 
impetuously, — "  you  who  see  so  much  and  think  so 
much  ?  It  is  such  taste  to  keep  it  all  to  yourself 
when  the  world  is  so  thirsty  ! " 

He  laughed — a  long  low  laugh  of  real  enjoyment. 

"  Poor  little  Miranda  !  *  How  features  are  abroad 
she  is  skill-less  of.'  The  dwarf  only  looms  through 
the  mists  of  your  inexperience,  my  child.  You 
haven't  the  smallest  notion  how  clever  people  are 
now-a-days." 

Her  face  fell  again.  She  was  thinking  of  her 
own  prospects  as  a  teacher.     Then — 

"  There  are  better  things  than  cleverness,"  she 
said  defiantly. 

"True.  Kingsley's  moral  is  becoming  something 
musty.  Oh,  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  your  strong 
suit  may  not  turn  out  to  be  trumps  when  you  come 
to  play  your  cards ;  but  I  think  we  were  talking  of 
my  hand  at  the  moment,  not  of  yours, — a  vastly 
different  thing.  When  you  are  my  age — I  can  feel 
now  the  force  of  the  smile  with  which  you  will  look 
back  in  the  light  of  a  mature  and  cultivated  intellect. 
'Poor  old  fellow! '  you  will  say.  *A11  he  did  in  the 
end  was  to  appreciate  some  scraps  of  the  work  of 
other  men.' " 

She  could  not  rise  to  this. 

"And  all  of  Nature's,  surely,"  she  responded 
lamely. 


250 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


He  shook  himself.  "  Think  so  ?  "  he  said  lightly. 
"  That  was  handsome  on  his  part,  considering  how 
scurvily  Nature  treated  him.  So  this  is  Schneeberg. 
I  fear  you  must  bid  farewell  to  your  fellow-product 
of  enlightenment." 

He  looked  the  poor  little  figure  up  and  down  as 
he  paid  the  fare. 

^^Degeneration:  a  chapter  in  Darwinism"  \\^  said 
quietly. 

They  had  determined  to  dine  at  the  top  of  the 
High  Schneeberg,  and  Ned  accomplished  the  pull 
manfully.  Sturdy  quickly  learned  not  to  keep  too 
near  him  as  they  climbed,  nor  to  make  many  remarks 
that  involved  an  answer ;  so  there  was  no  needless 
expenditure  of  the  labouring  breath,  and  she  was 
relieved  to  see,  when  they  reached  the  summit,  that, 
though  tired,  he  was  not  exhausted. 

Indeed,  he  attacked  the  soup  and  Kalbbraten  with 
unusual  gusto,  and  his  spirits  soon  bubbled  over  into 
wild  superficial  criticism  of  their  fellow  tourists,  his 
face  all  the  time  as  grave  as  if  he  were  discussing 
the  differential  calculus.  It  was  a  mood  that  she 
did  not  appreciate,  though  she  tried  hard  to  fall  in 
with  it.  She  was  growing  fast,  but  humour  with  her 
was  a  bud  that  blossomed  late.  Just  now  life  seemed 
too  intense,  too  short,  too  beautiful  for  nonsense. 
She  did  not  realize  the  educational  value  to  herself 
of  these  playful  moods  of  his;  though  all  the  time 
she  was  learning  with  characteristic  receptiveness  to 
look  at  things  from  his  social  and  intellectual  plane, 
— such  a  different  plane  in  every  way  from  that  to 
which  she  was  accustomed  ! 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


251 


"  It's  an  odd  thing,"  he  said  at  last,  frowning,  "  I 
can't  raise  my  eyes  without  being  gorgonized  by  a 
pair  of  tea-saucers  a  few  yards  off,  and  I  seem  to 
have  seen  them  before.  I  don't  suppose  you  can 
throw  any  light  on  the  question  ?" 

Sturdy  waited  a  moment  before  looking  up,  and 
then,  as  she  found  the  "  tea-saucers  "  fixed  full  on 
her  face,  there  came  to  her  the  smell  of  ropes  and  of 
brine,  the  vision  of  the  grey  North  Sea. 

She  dropped  her  eyes,  and  spoke  very  quietly. 

"  It  is  Miss  Brown." 

He  drew  down  his  brows.  *'  I  seem  to  have  heard 
the  name  before,"  he  said,  *'  or  to  have  met  with  it 
in  fiction.     Any  particular  Miss  Brown  ?" 

"  Don't  you  remember  ?  She  crossed  with  us  to 
Germany." 

And  then  he  drew  down  his  brows  in  good 
earnest. 

"  Confound  her ! "  he  said  under  his  breath. 
"Well,  we  have  no  time  to  lose  if  we  mean  to  do 
justice  to  the  view  and  catch  our  train  at  Bodenbach. 
Ready  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  in  a  moment.  But  don't  wait.  It  is 
frightfully  hot  in  here.  I  will  finish  my  coffee  and 
join  you  directly." 

But  his  seat  was  scarcely  vacated  before  the  tea- 
saucers  took  possession  of  it. 

"  I  say,  how  awfully  funny  !  "  was  Miss  Brown's 
characteristic  salutation. 

Sturdy  bethought  herself  of  no  fitting  re- 
sponse. 

"  You  do  seem  to  be  having  a  good  time  !  "  She 
17 


252  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

glanced  at  the  ringless  finger.  "  Left  the  others  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  I  suppose  ? " 

«  Yes." 

Poor  Sturdy !  Even  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  she  suffered  acutely  for  the  lie. 

"  Well,  all  1  can  say  is,  you  must  have  an  amaz- 
ingly accommodating  chaperon.  Mine  is  a  regular 
old  hawk.  Won't  let  us  speak  to  a  soul,  and  ex- 
pects botanizing  and  water-colour  sketching  to  take 
the  place  of  human  intercourse." 

Sturdy  smiled  feebly. 

"  You  know  you  have  improved  tremendously.  I 
didn't  recognize  you  till  my  friend.  Miss  Carswell, 
remarked  on  the  beauty  of  your  teeth,  and  then  I 
took  a  good  look, — not  that  I  noticed  your  teeth  on 
the  steamer." 

Sturdy  was  conscious  of  a  strong  fellow-feeling 
with  the  wolf  in  Red  Ridinghood^  but  she  refrained 
from  quoting  his  precise  words.  "I  think  I  must  be 
going,"  she  said,  rising. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry.  I  am  longing  to 
know  how  you  met  that  fellow  again.  He  isn't 
handsome,  you  know,  but  he  is  awfully  aristocratic- 
looking,  I  thought  the  episode  came  to  an  end 
when  he  left  you  in  the  lurch  at  the  docks." 

Sturdy  drew  herself  up  instinctively.  "  I  am 
afraid  I  don't  understand  you,"  she  said,  driven  into 
serenity  by  the  sheer  force  of  her  companion's  im- 
pertinence. 

"You  are  forgiving.  I  would  have  let  him  hear 
about  it.  He  was  so  taken  up  with  Madam  and  her 
baggage  that  he  left  yon  j)lafit6e  la,  and  I  noticed 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  253 

that  you  were  the  very  last  passenger  on  board 
to  get  a  porter.  Did  you  catch  your  train,  by  the 
way  ?" 

"I  shall  miss  it  now  if  I  stay  here  talking,"  said 
Sturdy.     ''Good  morning." 

Her  eyes  and  cheeks  were  very  bright  when  she 
joined  Ned  on  the  tower  overlooking  that  wonder- 
ful sweep  of  country  ;  but  she  said  nothing  of  the 
interview  that  had  just  taken  place.  Why  should 
she  ?  It  might  annoy  him,  and  make  him  regret 
having  brought  her. 

And  indeed  she  soon  forgot  all  about  it  herself  as 
they  strolled  through  the  woods  to  Bodenbach  in  the 
glinting  sunshine.  The  road  was  rough  and  stony, 
and  Ned's  tall  figure  drooped  in  the  drowsy  after- 
noon warmth.  There  was  something  very  tempting 
to  a  weary  man  in  the  sight  of  that  firm  young 
shoulder,  and  at  last,  almost  unconsciously,  he  laid 
his  hand  on  it.  Little  by  little  she  felt  the  weight 
increase,  but,  as  it  grew  heavy,  her  heart  grew  light ; 
and  so  the  strange  couple  walked  on,  regardless  of 
chance  observers,  scarcely  conscious  for  the  moment 
that  they  were  two  and  not  one,  for  were  they  not 
both,  like  the  birds  and  the  trees,  only  a  part  of  the 
summer  afternoon? 

There  were  beds  and  to  spare  at  Schona  that 
night,  and  oh,  the  joy  of  seeing  clean  sheets  and  a 
fair  supply  of  cold  water  ! 

They  resolved  to  "  go  to  roost  "  immediately  after 
supper,  but  the  night  was  so  bright  and  still  that 
they  wandered  down  to  the  Elbe  once  more.  It  was 
hard  to  separate  while  that  pleasant  sense  of  intimacy 


254 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


lasted,  and  all  chance  of  reaction  was  warded  off  by 
the  thought  of  Wednesday's  parting. 

Accidentally  they  discovered  a  wonderful  echo 
ringing  back  from  the  heights  across  the  river,  and 
for  a  time  they  laughed  and  sang  and  jodelled  like 
a  couple  of  children.  It  was  a  pleasant  hour  to  look 
back  upon  in  after-life,  though  its  details  never 
would  bear  very  accurate  focussing.  Every  trifling 
event  served  to  emphasize  the  harmony  of  their 
mood.  Why  try  to  express  it  in  words  that  had 
been  used  so  often  before  ? 

When  they  turned  homewards  a  long  silence  fell 
on  them,  and  Sturdy  slowly  gravitated  back  to  her 
customary  levels. 

"  Mr.  Beresford,"  she  began  shyly,  "  do  you  re- 
member  ? " 

"Why  don't  you  call  me  Ned  ? "  he  interrupted 
recklessly. 

She  shook  her  head.     "  It  wouldn't  do." 

"Why  not  ?    We  are  all  Adam's  bairns."    • 

"  It  doesn't  fit  in  a  bit  with  my  conception  of  you." 

"  Ah !  That's  final.  Well  ?  Do  I  remem- 
ber  ?  " 

"  The  lady  with  the  little  boy  who  crossed  with 
us  to  Germany  ? " 

"Your  mind  is  running  on  Miss  Brown,  I  see. 
Yes,  I  remember  the  lady." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  since  ?  " 

"  I  have.  I  called  once  or  twice,  but  they  did  not 
remain  long  in  Berlin.     Why  ?  " 

"  I  have  often  wished  I  could  see  more  of  her. 
I  never  met  anyone  like  her  before." 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


255 


"  If  you  go  to  Cambridge,  you  will  meet  lots  of 
nice  people," 

"  True.  That  question  is  settled.  We  are  not 
going  to  reopen  it." 

"  What  a  fortune  it  would  be  to  a  teacher  to  have 
a  manner  and  presence  like  that !  Do  you  mind  tell- 
ing me,"  she  went  on  nervously,  vaguely  conscious 
that  she  was  making  a  mistake,  "  whether  my  manner 
is  just  a  degree — just  a  degree — better  than  Miss 
Brown's  ?  " 

"  I  decline  to  rise  to  that,  Sturdy.  And  besides, 
Miss  Brown  left  no  very  definite  impression  on  my 
mind." 

She  sighed. 

"  I  think  you  will  find,"  he  said  rather  deprecat- 
ingly — he  was  always  ill  at  ease  in  the  gown  and 
bands  of  the  preacher — "  at  least  I  imagine  it  is  a 
fairly  common  experience — that  as  we  grow  older 
we  see  that  we  simply  can't  possess  all  the  charms 
and  virtues  of  other  people;  and  when  we  once  make 
up  our  minds  to  that,  we  find  that  we  do  possess  them 
in  a  way.  The  things  we  appreciate  are  possessions 
that  nobody  can  rob  us  of." 

She  did  not  answer  immediately. 

"  Rather  a  bleak  and  negative  sort  of  posses- 
sion !  " 

**  So  it  naturally  seems  to  you  now."  And  he 
murmured  half  to  himself, 

"  '  Think  you,  'mid  all  this  mighty  sum 
Of  things  forever  speaking, 
That  nothing  of  itself  will  come, 
But  we  must  still  be  seeking  ? ' " 


256 


FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 


"  I  know  that"  she  cried  with  girlish  eagerness. 
'*  Robertson  quotes  it." 

"  Robertson  quotes  it !  "  he  repeated  expres- 
sively, but  he  was  in  no  mood  to  be  hypercritical 
then. 

"  And  I  like  Christina  Rossetti  better, — 

'  Does  the  road  wind  uphill  all  the  way  ? 

Yes,  to  the  very  end. 
"Will  the  day's  journey  take  the  whole  long  day? 
From  morn  to  night,  my  friend.'  " 

"  That  is  true  too,  and  I  can  imagine  you  like  it 
better.  But  the  fact  remains  that  we  don't  always 
learn  most  when  we  are  trying  hardest  to  learn. 
Certainly  we  don't  grow  most  when  we  are  trying 
hardest  to  grow." 

Poor  Sturdy !  Her  density  at  times  was  almost 
incredible.  "  I  am  sure  that  applies  to  my  music," 
she  said. 

XThe  subject  of  her  music  was  not  one  that  would 
naturally  have  suggested  itself  to  him  that  lovely 
night,  but  he  adapted  himself  to  her  mood. 

"  Then  be  content  for  a  bit  to  listen  to  other 
people's  music." 

"  Do  you  think  I  should  give  it  up  altogether  ?" 

*'  Gott  bewahre!  Among  my  many  follies  I  am 
thankful  to  think  I  don't  include  that  dogmatising 
on  other  people's  duties." 

"  I  know ;  but  I  should  so  value  a  word  of  advice." 

He  shook  his  head.  "  Do  the  thing  you  want  to 
do,  my  child." 

"  It  is  the  moral  force  of  her  that  will  tell,"  he 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP. 


257 


said  to  himself,  *'  but  there  is  no  need  to  draw  her 
attention  to  that.  It  is  the  one  thing  she  is  not  self- 
conscious  about," 

He  laughed  softly  as  he  thought  what  a  panoply 
she  possessed  in  that  moral  force  and  moral  ambi- 
tion of  hers.  Assuredly  there  was  no  danger  in  her 
mood  to-night. 


XIV. 

— that  serene  and  blessed  mood, 
In  which  the  affections  gently  lead  us  on, — 
Until,  the  breath  of  this  corporeal  frame, 
And  even  the  motion  of  our  human  blood 
Almost  suspended,  we  are  laid  asleep 
In  body,  and  become  a  living  soul ; 
While  with  an  eye  made  quiet  by  the  power 
Of  harmony,  and  the  deep  power  of  joy, 
We  see  into  the  life  of  things. — Wordsworth. 

But  it  was  next  day — Tuesday  in  Whitsun-week 
— that  they  reached  their  high-water  mark  of  phys- 
ical enjoyment, — it  was  then  that  Sturdy  entered, 
without  knowing  it,  into  Wordsworth's  secret,  and 
saw  things  eye  to  eye  with  her  friend. 

A  heavy  dew  fell  in  the  night,  and  then  the  sun 
rose  royally  as  before,  glowing  down  through  an 
atmosphere  rich  in  colour,  and  calling  forth  the 
subtle  complex  fragrance  of  all  the  scentless  green 
things.  The  air  was  full  of  twitter  and  whirr  and 
clear  liquid  notes ;  and  through  all  one  seemed  to 
hear  the  very  heart  beat  of  the  summer  day. 

The  travellers  set  off  leisurely  with  no  very  defi- 


258  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

nite  intent.  It  was  not  a  day  for  maps  and  guide- 
books. They  crossed  the  ferry,  and  then  took  their 
way  through  the  glen  that  leads  to  the  Prebischthor. 

Oh,  the  glory  of  that  morning ! — the  living  har- 
mony of  golden  greens,  shimmering  into  silver  where 
the  sun  flashed  off  the  leaves,  and  fading  far  away 
into  a  rich  blue  haze  !  Sturdy  did  not  speak,  but 
every  now  and  then  her  breath  came  almost  in  a  sob 
of  intense  appreciation.  When  they  reached  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  there  was  no  talk  of  turning  back,  but 
Ned  laid  his  hand  quite  simply  on  her  shoulder  as 
they  began  the  climb.  The  sun  soon  became  very 
hot,  but  they  were  shaded  by  the  fir-trees  overhead, 
and  every  few  dozen  yards  they  stopped  to  rest  and 
enjoy. 

"  What  it  must  be  to  Sturdy  !  "  Ned  thought  ever 
and  again  as  his  eye  revelled  in  all  the  wealth  of  life, 
and  the  grandeur  of  the  mighty  walls  of  rock. 

Then  the  path  became  so  steep  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  walk  abreast,  but  an  occasional  rude  hand- 
rail or  flight  of  steps  made  the  climb  a  comparatively 
easy  one. 

But  nothing  on  the  way  prepared  them  for  the 
beauty  of  the  view  from  the  summit.  Shortly  after 
noon  they  emerged  into  the  brilliant  sunshine  on  the 
top  of  the  great  natural  arch.  The  outlook  is  always 
an  impressive  one,  but  to-day  the  brilliant  golden 
atmosphere  seemed  to  give  a  new  value  and  defini- 
tion to  everything,  and  the  air  was  full  of  the  sounds 
that  measure  the  stillness  of  a  summer  noonday. 
Even  Ned  admitted  afterwards  that  he  had  rarely 
felt   so   strongly  the   sense   of  an  actual   presence 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


259 


round  about  him;  and  as  for  poor  Sturdy — her  first 
almost  irrepressible  impulse  was  to  fall  down  on  her 
knees, — she  had  never  dreamt  of  anything  like  this 
— but,  fortunately  for  Ned,  she  remembered  herself 
in  time. 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  when  at  last  she  found  voice, 
"why  do  we  preach  to  people?    Why  don't  we  just 
bring  them  out  and  let  them  feel  things?" 
It  was  some  time  before  he  answered. 
"I  think,"  he  said  quietly,  "it  was  you  who  only 
yesterday  were  advising  me  to  write." 

"Was  I?"  She  drew  her  hand  across  her  brow 
as  if  she  were  half  dazed,  "  I  suppose  I  was.  I 
don't  know  what  I  think  or  believe.  My  mind 
seems  all  turned  upside  down.  I  feel  almost  as  if 
I  had  crossed  the  river  of  death." 

He  shivered.  "  I  hope  Jordan's  flood  may  prove 
as  pleasant !     Come." 

They  took  a  path  through  the  woods  which 
brought  them  very  gradually  nearer  earth  again. 
The  air  was  full  of  the  aromatic  fragrance  of  pines, 
and  the  thick  carpet  of  needles  crunched  pleasantly 
under  their  feet.  Now  and  then  they  got  a  sunny 
glimpse  of  the  surrounding  country  away  down 
below,  or  the  undulating  way  was  varied  by  a  deep 
ravine,  whose  steep  rocky  sides  were  tapestried  with 
dark  velvety  mosses  and  sprays  of  delicate  green ; 
and  here  and  there  tall  firs  and  birches  sprang  from 
the  moist  ground  at  the  bottom,  and  stretched  their 
dainty  heads  to  the  light  above  the  rocks. 

By  common  consent  the  travellers  turned  aside, 
and   threw   themselves   on   a    mossy  bank   in    the 


26o  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

dappled  sunshine.  Neither  was  in  any  mood  for 
words,  but  of  course  it  was  Sturdy  who  at  length 
broke  the  silence. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  in  a  queer  broken 
voice,  "  it  has  come  to  me  what  you  meant  last  night 
about  our  possessing  things  outside  of  us.  I  feel  to- 
day like  a  river  that  has  joined  the  sea.  All  the  me 
is  slipping  away,  and  yet — I  feel  the  tide  sweeping 
in,  so  still,  so — big.  It  makes  me  smile  at  my  own 
little  ambitions  and  aims.  I  see  now  how  one  in- 
herits the  earth.  .  .  .  And  it  is  so  simple ! — you  have 
only  to  let  yourself  go." 

She  stopped, — her  eyes  bright  with  unshed  tears. 
"  Am  I  talking  nonsense  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,  my  child :  something  nearer 
sense  than  I  ever  expected  to  hear  from  you." 

Did  her  simile  recall  to  his  mind  the  river  whose 
surroundings  have  inspired  one  of  the  noblest  poems 
in  the  language  ?  Possibly ;  for,  a  few  minutes 
later,  he  began  to  repeat  in  a  low  level  voice, — 

"  Five  years  have  passed,  five  summers,  with  the  length 
Of  five  long  winters  !  and  again  I  hear 
These  waters,  rolling  from  their  mountain  springs 
With  a  soft  inland  murmur " 

And,  like  an  almost  inaudible  accompaniment,  the 
wind  rippled  softly  through  the  tree-tops,  and  the 
insects  hummed  on. 

When  he  came  to  the  last  paragraph,  Ned  stopped 
short.  Indeed  he  smiled  to  himself  at  the  bare  idea 
of  going  on.  Those  personal  references  to  the 
"  dearest  Friend,"  the  "  dear,  dear  sister,"  struck  him 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP.  261 

as  purely  ridiculous  in  the  present  connection.  They 
were  too  nearly  true,  too  "  sentimental,"  too  gro- 
tesquely appropriate  to  the  situation. 

So  he  stopped,  and  Sturdy  thought  the  poem  was 
at  an  end. 

"  How  lovely  !  "  she  said  dreamily.  "  Your  voice 
and  the  poem  are  just  like  the  throb  one  feels  to-day 
in  the  sunshine." 

Yes,  no  doubt  it  would  have  been  ridiculous  to  go 

on  to  the  end  of  the  poem  ;  but  there  came  a  day 

Yet  why  talk  of  it  ?  Have  we  not  all  learned  that  in 
this  world  of  partings  there  is  sometimes  but  one 
step  from  the  ridiculous  to  the  sublime  ? 

Having  almost  unwittingly  come  so  far,  they  re- 
solved to  go  on  by  the  ordinary  tourist  route  towards 
Schandau.  At  the  top  of  the  Great  Winterberg  there 
was  an  announcement  of  a  "  Pony  to  let,"  and  Ned 
gladly  availed  himself  of  it.  Of  course  he  insisted 
that  Sturdy  should  have  her  share  of  the  luxury,  but 
she  succeeded  in  reducing  this  to  a  minimum  on  the 
true  plea  that  the  unwonted  exercise  tired  her  more 
than  walking. 

As  they  climbed  the  hill  to  the  Kuhstall,  they 
overtook  Miss  Brown's  party,  and  the  "tea-saucers" 
were  brought  into  full  requisition.  Sturdy  tried  hard 
to  keep  out  of  their  way,  but  of  course  in  vain.  As 
they  passed.  Miss  Brown  contrived  to  whisper  in  an 
expressive  undertone, 

"  Well,  I  must  say  you  have  an  amazingly  accom- 
modating chaperon  !  " 

Then  she  turned  to  her  companion  in  tutelage. 


262  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

"  Do    you    know,    I    believe    that    is    a    runaway 
couple." 

The  other  looked  sceptical.  "  Humph  !  "  she 
said.     "  One  would  wish  them  a  swifter  steed  !  " 

The  incident  was  a  very  trifling  one,  yet  it  always 
seemed  to  Sturdy  the  beginning  of  the  end.  From 
that  moment  the  shadow  of  the  parting  was  upon 
them.  The  sky,  too,  began  to  cloud  over;  a  sudden 
ominous  sough  of  wind  swept  through  the  trees ;  and 
they  were  startled  to  hear  the  patter  of  rain  on  the 
leaves  overhead. 

At  the  first  opportunity  they  hired  a  conveyance 
and  drove  on  to  Schandau. 

Sturdy  kept  up  gallantly.  Intuitively  she  recog- 
nized that  she  must  make  no  reference  to  the  part- 
ing, and  indeed  she  wanted  Ned's  last  impression  of 
her  to  be  as  bright  as  possible. 

So  they  talked  and  laughed — a  little  too  con- 
scientiously perhaps,  but  to  all  appearance  as  gaily 
as  though  a  lifetime  of  companionship  lay  before 
them. 

And  next  morning  he  went  with  her  to  the 
steamer,  and  she  started  alone  for  Dresden  in  a 
blinding  slant  of  rain. 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  263 

XV. 

"  And  now  the  time  has  come,  and  we  must  go  hence." 

It  was  autumn,  and  Ned  and  Sturdy  were  on  the 
North  Sea  once  more.  They  had  met  but  seldom 
since  the  parting  in  Saxon  Switzerland,  and  it  was 
very  pleasant  now  to  talk  over  the  golden  days,  and 
all  the  experiences  of  the  interval.  Sturdy  had  much 
to  tell  of  her  music,  her  teaching,  the  books  she  had 
read,  and  the  plays  she  had  seen ;  and  he  listened 
and  laughed  with  the  old  friendly  interest  and  amuse- 
ment. 

"  And  do  you  still  look  forward  with  enthusiasm 
to  your  life-work  ?" 

Her  face  clouded. 

"  Oh  yes,  but  just  at  present  the  immediate  future 
bulks  too  big  for  me  to  see  beyond  it.  I  do  so  dread 
going  home." 

He  turned  to  her  with  a  look  of  brotherly  con- 
cern. 

"  Nothing  wrong,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  Nothing  of  that  sort.  I  suppose  it  is 
difficult  for  you  to  imagine  what  an  uncongenial 
home  means." 

He  drew  down  his  brows  in  simple  disapproval. 

*'  Oh,  stow  that.  Sturdy ! "  he  said  good-hu- 
mouredly. 

Her  face  crimsoned. 

"  One  doesn't  expect  banal  conventionalities  from 
you,  little  woman,  and  you  must  be  aware  that  it  is 
the  fashion  nowadays    for  young  people    to  'out- 


264  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

grow '  their  homes.  The  butcher's  boy  is  sent  to 
college,  enters  the  ministry — '  leaves  all  for  the  cross,' 
in  fact ! — and  then  finds  that  his  father  and  mother 
are  quite  unable  to  enter  into  his  delicate  feelings 
and  lofty  aspirations.  It  is  astonishing  how  little 
sense  of  humour  some  people  have !  And  in  ninety- 
nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  the  old  folks  at  home 
are,  not  only  more  interesting,  but  also  a  dashed 
sight  better  form,  than  these  crowing  upstart  ban- 
tams." 

She  did  not  answer. 

"  Offended  ? "  he  asked  at  length. 

**  No.     You  are — bracing." 

"  But  it  is  true,  isn't  it  ? " 

It  was  a  minute  or  two  before  she  answered. 

"  So  true,"  she  said  meditatively.  "  I  never 
thought  of  it  quite  in  that  way  before.  '  He  endured 
as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.*  Of  course  our  res- 
ignation must  be  the  measure  of  the  depth  of  our  in- 
sight." 

But,  from  Ned's  point  of  view,  this  was  going 
from  bad  to  worse. 

"  If  there  is  a  word  I  detest,"  he  said,  exasperated, 
"it  is  resignation.     JRestgnaiton !  " 

"  I  know  you  do.  I  am  stupid  at  choosing  my 
words.     But  you  don't  detest  the  thing  I  mean." 

"  Look  here.  Sturdy, — swear  a  bit,  will  you  ? 
There  is  no  fun  in  being  too  good  for  this  world." 

She  laughed.  "  There  is  less  fun  in  missing  one's 
opportunities." 

He  groaned  and  stretched  himself  wearily.  "  Do 
you  know,  you  positively  make  my  back  ache  J    If 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  265 

you  mean  to  go  through  life  in  this  laborious  fashion, 
sweeping  up  your  opportunities,  what  will  you  be  at 
fifty — thirty  eyen  ?  It  is  enough  to  make  a  man 
wish  he  might  be  there  to  see.  I  hope  you  are  not 
missing  that  fine  gleam  through  the  mist  ?  " 

"  It  is  lovely,"  she  said,  *'  and  it  is  late.  Good- 
night." 

The  season  of  fogs  was  not  yet ;  but,  without 
regard  to  recent  precedent,  the  fog  gathered  denser 
and  denser ;  and,  from  midnight  on,  the  horn  kept 
sounding  with  dreary  iteration.  Glass  in  hand,  the 
captain  spent  the  night  on  the  bridge,  and  he  ap- 
peared at  breakfast  in  the  morning,  red-eyed  and 
weary. 

"I  would  rather  you  were  all  sick  in  your  berths," 
he  said,  as  he  mechanically  counted  the  full  tale  of 
passengers.     "There  is  no  danger  in  that." 

"Why  don't  you  put  into  some  port? — or  cast 
anchor  ? "  asked  a  lady  anxiously. 

He  smiled.  "There  are  difficulties;  and  if  we 
cast  anchor  every  time  there  was  a  fog,  there  would 
soon  be  a  rival  company.  One  has  to  be  careful 
what  one  says  to  ladies,  but  we  don't  always  get 
a  chance  to  be  quite  as  cautious  as  we  would 
like." 

"  But  there  is  an  invention  by  which  you  can 
stop  instantly,  isn't  there  ? "  asked  an  intelligent 
young  man.  "  I  saw  a  model  of  it  at  some  exhibi- 
tion." 

The  captain  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  If  there 
had  been  a  practical  one,  I  would  soon  have  heard 
of  it,"  he  said.     "  We  can't  see  three-quarters  of  a 


266  FELLOW  TRAVELLERS. 

mile  through  the  fog  just  now ;  and,  even  though 
we  reverse  engines,  we  can't  stop  short  in  anything 
like  that  distance." 

Even  as  he  spoke  the  grunt  of  the  horns  rose  in 
an  anguished  blast,  there  was  a  scuffle  of  feet  over- 
head, the  shriek  of  a  whistle,  the  convulsive  throb 
of  reversed  engines, — and  the  captain  was  up  the 
companion-way  before  the  passengers  could  look 
round. 

Quick  as  light  a  glance  passed  between  Ned  and 
Sturdy,  and  they  followed  without  delay. 

The  steamer  quivered  and  throbbed  like  a  live 
thing,  the  water  all  around  was  churned  into  foam, 
and  high  up,  through  the  fog,  loomed  the  prow  of  a 
mighty  vessel. 

Sturdy  shivered.  If  the  only  chance  of  escape 
lay  in  scaling  that  slippery  cliff ! 

Instinctively  Ned  caught  her  trembling  hand,  and 
drew  it  within  his  arm. 

"  Frightened  ? "  he  asked,  in  an  odd,  tender  voice, 
looking  down  at  her  ashen  face. 

"Horribly." 

"  Dear  little  lass !  "  He  clasped  the  hand  firmly 
in  his  great  warm  palm.  "  You  make  me  feel  that 
there  are  advantages  after  all  in  spending  the  best 
years  of  one's  life  with  one  foot  in  the  grave." 

She  did  not  answer.  At  that  moment  it  seemed 
as  if  she  could  almost  have  touched  the  approach- 
ing vessel  with  her  hand. 

"  If  you  knew  how  I  have  wasted  my  life,"  she 
began  rather  hysterically ; — **  if  you  knew  all  I 
meant  to  do !  " 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  267 

"Bless  my  soul,  child,  is  it  possible  that  you, 
who  are  just  brimming  over  with  moral  enthusiasm, 
need  to  be  told  by  an  old  pagan  like  me  that  we 
can't  choose  our  work  ?  And  do  you  expect  me  to 
believe  that  you,  who  meant  to  do  your  duty  so 
heroically  as  a  teacher,  will  do  it  any  less  well  if, 
instead  of  all  that  grind,  you  have  simply  got — 
to  die  ? " 

Ah  me,  how  often  he  had  preached  that  doctrine 
to  himself  in  the  feverish  watches  of  the  night ! 
But  to  her  in  her  eager  vitality  it  was  a  hard 
saying,  just  beyond  her  own  moral  grip,  and  con- 
sequently perhaps  the  grandest  saying  she  had  ever 
heard. 

Pitifully  she  raised  her  face  to  his  in  search  of 
strength — and  their  eyes  met  for  the  first  time  in 
a  long,  full  look,  without  raillery,  without  reserve. 
I  think  perhaps  there  are  some  whole  lives  that 
contain  less  meaning  than  a  look  like  that. 

"  Thank  God  !  " 

The  exclamation  came  involuntarily  from  one  of 
the  passengers,  and  the  two  friends  turned  to  see 
the  great  prow  slowly,  slowly  receding. 

Sturdy  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"  What  a  hero  you  are !  "  she  said  softly. 

But  even  in  a  moment  like  that  he  could  stand  no 
sentiment. 

"Custom,  my  dear,  custom,"  he  answered  lightly. 
"  If  you  had  a  tussle  with  Bony  every  six  months 
or  so,  you  would  become  used  to  the  grimness  of 
his  visage." 
18 


268  FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 

Little  by  little,  as  the  day  wore  on,  the  fog  lifted, 
taking  with  it  for  the  most  part,  as  it  rose,  the  mo- 
mentary insight  it  had  lent,  and  leaving  the  fogs  of 
convention  to  settle  down  again. 

But  Sturdy's  voice  was  still  very  shaky  when  at 
last  her  reflections  took  form — 

"  Will  you  forgive  me,"  she  said,  "  for  all  the 
times  I  have  been  conceited  and  '  superior.'  I  be- 
lieve I  have  sometimes  thought  I  was  more — more 
moral  than  you.  But  it  is  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
that  tries  a  man,  and  you  have  stood  the  test,  and 
I  have  failed." 

"  Don't  be  ridiculous,  dear,"  he  answered  affec- 
tionately. "  I  have  told  you  already  that  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  My  philosophy  is  a  more 
restful  one  than  yours. 

'  This  I  know, — 
I  should  live  the  same  life  over  if  I  had  to  live  again, 
And  the  chances  are  I  go — where  most  men  go.*  " 

**  Oh,  don't,"  she  cried. 

"  Does  that  shock  you  ?  It  has  comforted  me 
many  a  time  ;  and  indeed  I  am  only  applying  your 
own  principles  anent  resignation.  Whittier  says 
almost  the  same  thing — '  nur  mit  ein  bischen  andern 
W or  ten* — 

'  Suffice  it  if — my  good  and  ill  unreckoned, 

And  both  forgiven,  through  Thine  abounding  grace — 

I  find  myself  by  hands  familiar  beckoned 
Unto  my  fitting  place,' 

That  will  suit  us  both  perhaps.  ...     Do  I  hear  the 
luncheon-bell  ?    Joy  !  " 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  269 

The  voyage  was  a  good  deal  lengthened  by  the 
fog,  but  Sturdy  awoke  next  morning  to  find  the 
level  rays  of  the  sun  streaming  in  at  her  cabin 
window,  and  she  hurried  on  deck  with  all  the  speed 
she  could  make. 

Land  was  already  in  sight,  and  Ned  was  awaiting 
her.  The  water  lay  a  leaden  expanse  on  every  side, 
but  the  white  caps  danced  and  sprang  into  the  glow 
of  the  rising  sun.  For  a  time  they  stood  together  in 
silence. 

"  Sit  down.  Sturdy,"  said  Ned  at  last.  "  I  want 
to  speak  to  you.     Do  you  dislike  letter-writing?" 

She  turned  to  him  with  the  light  of  the  white 
caps  in  her  face. 

"  I  should  love  to  write  to  you!"  she  said. 

He  smiled.  No,  she  never  would  learn  to  be  like 
other  women  ! 

"  I  was  thinking,"  he  said,  "  it  would  be  very 
kind  if  you  would  write — once  a  month  or  so. 
Tell  me  about  the  books  you  are  reading,  the 
music  you  are  hearing  ; — and  I  will  do  the  same  to 
you." 

"  Oh,  how  kind  of  you  to  think  of  it !  " 

"On  the  contrary,  my  child.  It  is  the  other 
way  about.  You  will  soon  judge  differently  of  our 
relative  value.      But  there  is  one  thing  I   want  to 

say "     He  raised  one  leg  slowly  over  the  other, 

and  nervously  tapped  the  sole  of  his  boot  with  the 
book  he  had  been  reading.  "  Some  day — any  day — 
the  man  may  come  along,  who — whose  step  will 
make  your  heart  beat  fast,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Well — when    he  comes — you  will    give   me    a  hint, 


270 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


won't  you  ?  He  will  be  a  fine  fellow  I've  no  doubt ; 
but — my  letters  won't  be  meant  for  him." 

They  were  alone  on  deck,  and  she  laughed  aloud. 

♦'  As  if  I  wouldn't  rather  have  your  letters  than 
any  other  man's  love !  " 

He  nodded  with  quiet  philosophy. 

"  All  right — you  will  keep  faith,  I  know.  And 
now,  my  child,  will  you  tell  the  steward  to  bring  up 
your  things,  and  I  will  see  that  the  custom-house 
officer  passes  them  at  once." 

It  seemed  only  a  few  seconds  before  he  was  put- 
ting her  into  her  cab.  Who  knows  what  she  might 
have  been  tempted  to  say  at  that  last  moment  ? — 
but  he  gave  her  no  chance. 

"  And  as  regards  colour,''  he  said  lightly,  as  he 
held  out  his  hand,  "  you  won't  forget,  will  you  ? 
Shun  the  calorific  end  of  the  spectrum  as  you  would 
shun  poison.  Nothing  could  be  better  than  that 
soft  willow  green,  but  you  might  try  an  old  tapestry 
blue  if Good-bye!     God-speed!" 


THE    STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  2/1 

XVI. 

— when  thy  mind 
Shall  be  a  mansion  for  all  lovely  forms, 
Thy  memory  be  as  a  dwelling-place 
For  all  sweet  sounds  and  harmonies  ;  oh  !  then, 
If  solitude  or  fear  or  pain  or  grief 
Should  be  thy  portion,  with  what  healing  thoughts 
Of  tender  joy  wilt  thou  remember  me. — Wordsworth. 

A  FINE  rain  was  falling  steadily,  and  the  smoke 
of  tall  chimneys  hung  heavily  over  the  town,  when 
Sturdy  arrived  at  the  familiar,  grimy  station. 

The  most  casual  observer  could  have  told  that 
the  young  woman  on  the  platform  was  her  sister  ; 
and  it  was  well  perhaps  that  Ned  was  not  there. 
Most  things  are  cheapened  when  we  see  them  in 
duplicate.  The  same  hair,  the  same  height,  some- 
thing of  the  same  build,  and  yet  what  a  difference 
after  all ! 

"  1  was  determined  to  come  alone  to  meet  you," 
said  the  sister  as  they  unfurled  their  umbrellas. 
*'  I  wanted  to  tell  you  the  news  myself.  I  was  so 
afraid  it  wouldn't  be  settled  before  you  came  home. 
It  has  been  hanging  fire  so  long.  But  last  night 
it  all  came  right.     Look  !  " 

She  drew  off  a  soiled  yellow  glove  and  displayed 
a  diamond  ring. 

All  the  snob  in  Sturdy  rose  in  fierce  rebellion. 
Surely  their  family  was  impossible  enough  with- 
out the  addition  of  a  "genteel"  brother-in-law. 
Then  the  thought  of  the  butcher's  boy  who  *'  left 
all  for  the  cross  "  sent  the  blood  to  her  cheeks. 


2/2 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"  I  am  sure  I  wish  you  joy,  dear,"  she  said  humbly. 
"  It  is  Mr.  Johnson,  1  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Did  you  guess  from  my  letters  that  there 
was  something  in  the  wind  ?  " 

"  No.     It  never  crossed  my  mind." 

"  Oh,  you're  not  half  sharp  !  But  of  course  I 
didn't  want  to  say  too  much  in  case  it  should  all  be 
off  again.  You  know  he  has  father's  business 
now ;  and,  with  his  London  experience,  he  means  to 
make  the  old  place  sit  up.  He  says  poor  father  was 
too  much  of  a  poet  to  succeed  in  business." 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  ;  I  know.  It  is  very  nice — es- 
pecially now  that  he  is  dead.  And  it  was  all  his 
doing  that  you  got  your  grand  education.  But  there 
is  mother  waving  her  hand  to  you  at  the  window. 
Poor  mother,  she  is  awfully  pleased  about  this." 

So  it  seemed,  'poor  careworn  woman  !  She  em- 
braced Sturdy  with  tears  in  her  eyes ;  but,  as  a 
family  event,  the  wanderer's  return  was  evidently  a 
matter  of  small  importance  compared  with  the  dia- 
mond ring. 

"  Mr.  Johnson  was  hoping  to  come  in  and  see  you 
to-night,"  she  said,  when  Sturdy's  unpacking  was 
completed  and  they  sat  at  tea  ;  "  but  he  was  afraid 
he  couldn't  get  back  from  Screwborough  in  time. 
He  is  so  anxious  to  hear  you  play  the  violin." 

Sturdy  did  not  reply.  It  was  needless  to  explain 
at  this  juncture  that  she  had  lost  even  the  doubtful 
skill  she  had  once  possessed. 

"You  know  he  is  desperately  afraid  of  you,"  said 
the  sister  gleefully. 


THE   STORY  OF   A   FRIENDSHIP.  273 

Sturdy's  smile  was  rather  a  dreary  one. 

"  I  wonder  why,  unless  there  is  something  very 
unusual  about  a  young  woman  who  has  learned  her 
own  ignorance." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  thought  you  quite 
pretty,"  was  the  generous  response.  "Is  that  a 
German  way  of  doing  your  hair  ?  And  I  like  your 
dress — though  it's  not  what  I  call  stylish.  Don't 
you,  mother  ?" 

The  mother  assented  doubtfully,  and  strove  for  a 
moment  to  suppress  the  conscientious  remark  that 
followed.  "  But  it  seems  to  me  rather  extravagant 
to  wear  a  dress  like  that  on  a  journey.  I  noticed  a 
spot  of  tar  or  grease  or  something  on  it.  No,  not 
there;  somewhere  in  the  back  folds.  Stand  up  and 
I'll  show  you.  See !  You  must  get  something  from 
the  chemist  to-morrow  that  will  take  it  out.  I  am 
afraid  you  have  come  home  with  very  grand  ideas." 

Sturdy  laughed  pleasantly.  With  dogged  tenac- 
ity she  was  keeping  before  her  mind  the  picture  of 
the  butcher's  boy. 

"  If  I  have,"  she  said,  "  it  is  not  for  want  of  try- 
ing to  make  my  ideas  simple." 

And  then  the  conversation  returned  once  more  to 
the  ebbs  and  flows  of  the  courtship. 

Bed-time  came  at  last,  and  the  two  sisters  took 
their  candles  to  go  up-stairs. 

"  I  see  the  big  house  is  let,"  said  Sturdy  casually. 

"  Yes,  to  the  new  manager  of  the  works,  Mr. 
Brown.  By  the  way,  his  daughter  met  you  in  Ger- 
many." 

"  Ah !  " 


274 


FELLOW   TRAVELLERS. 


"  She  said  I  was  to  be  sure  and  ask  you  all  about 
your  tour  in  Saxon  Switzerland,  You  seemed  to  be 
having  such  a  good  time.  I  said  you  had  told  us 
very  little  about  it  in  your  letters." 

"Yes." 

So  the  deluge  was  at  hand,  was  it  ?  Very  good. 
Let  it  come ! 

On  the  threshold  of  her  attic  room  she  stopped, 
and  kissed  her  sister  affectionately. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said.  "  I  am  very  tired.  You 
shall  tell  me  more  to-morrow." 

The  room  was  as  plainly  furnished  as  a  nun's 
cell;  the  one  thing  in  it  to  please  the  eye  was  a 
photograph  of  Lohengr ins  A bsc hied  on  the  wall  by  the 
bedside.  It  was  one  of  the  very  few  treasures  which 
Sturdy  had  brought  with  her  from  Germany. 

But  she  did  not  stop  to  look  at  this  now.  She 
put  out  her  candle,  and,  throwing  open  the  storm- 
window,  stretched  out  her  arms  into  the  starless 
night. 

"  God,"  she  moaned.  "  God, — God  !  Ho7v  I  thank 
Thee!  Who  was  I  that  this  should  come  to  me? 
And  now,  whatever  happens,  I  have  had  my  day,  and 
the  light  has  entered  into  my  life  for  ever." 

And,  many  miles  away,  a  man  sat  wearily  in  a 
luxurious  room  with  his  slippered  feet  on  the  rich 
tiles  of  the  hearth.  All  around  were  books,  and  on 
the  table  a  great  bowl  of  roses  was  half  concealed 
by  the  wealth  of  photographs  and  music  just  un- 
packed. 

On    the  sofa  opposite   lounged   a  young  girl   in 


THE   STORY   OF   A   FRIENDSHIP. 


275 


dainty  evening  dress,  her  beautiful  head  supported 
by  her  hand,  her  face  full  of  eager  interest  and  of 
pathetic  recoil  from  an  awful  foreboding. 

"So  you  see,  Edith,"  the  man  was  saying,  "the 
episode  simply  came  to  an  end.  One  can  scarcely 
conceive  how  it  could  have  been  otherwise.  Love  is 
one  of  the  things  that  have  no  place  in  a  life  like 
mine  ;  and,  as  it  happened,  she  was  not  that  sort  of 
a  girl.  1  don't  suppose  her  mother  would  welcome 
me  in  the  capacity  of  Platonic  friend,  and  I  can't 
fancy  you  and  Sybil  receiving  her  here.  I  don't 
even  know  myself  that  I  should  care  to  have  her." 

A  curious  little  smile  rippled  his  flexible  lip.  He 
stopped  and  relighted  the  cigar  that  had  gone  out 
while  he  was  talking.  He  drew  a  few  whiffs  rather 
nervously,  and  then  continued  very  calmly,  as  if  he 
were  talking  of  someone  else. 

"  I  made  my  will  the  other  day.  I  wanted  to 
leave  her  enough  money  to  go  to  Girton ;  and  I 
should  like  her  to  have  my  books, — of  course  not 
anything  you  or  Sybil  especially  care  about — but 
Wordsworth  certainly.  And  if  some  day  she  should 
turn  out  a  famous  woman, — upon  my  soul,  it 
wouldn't  surprise  me  !  That  moral  force  and  moral 
fibre  are  the  next  things  to  genius, — and  you  should 
care  to  make  her  acquaintance — I  think  you  will 
find  she  hasn't  forgotten  the  poor  old  hulk,  whom 
she  towed  along — so  gallantly — in  the  sunshine." 

THE    END. 


APPLETONS'   TOWN   AND  COUNTRY  LIBRARY. 

PUBLISHED    SEMIMONTHLY. 


1.  The  Sted  Hammer.    By  Louis  Ulsach. 

2.  Eve.    A  Novel.    By  8.  Baring-Gould. 

3.  For  Fifteen,  Years.    A  Sequel  to  The  Steel  Hammer.    By  Louis  Ulbach. 
\.  A  Counsel  of  Perfectimi.   A  Novel.    By  Lucas  Malet. 

5.  The  Deemster.    A  Komance.    By  Hall  Caxne. 

5J-.  The  Bondman.    (New  edition.)    By  Hall  Caine. 

6.  A  Virginia  Inheritance.    By  Edmund  Pendleton. 

7.  Ninette :  An  Idyll  of  Provence.    By  the  author  of  V^ra. 

8.  "  The  Bight  Honourable.''''  By  Justin  McCaktht and  Mrs.  Campbell-P'bakjj. 

9.  The  Silence  of  Dean  ifaitland.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

10.  Mrs.  Lorimer :  A  Study  in  Black  and  White.    By  Lucas  Malet. 

11.  Tfu  Elect  Lady.    By  George  MacDonald. 

12.  The  Mystery  of  the  "■  Ocean  Star."    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

13.  Ai-istocracy .    A  Novel. 

14.  A  Recoiling  Vengeance.    By  Frank  Barrett.    With  Illustrations. 

15.  The   Secret  of  Eontaine-la-  Croix.    By  Margaret  Field. 

16.  The  Master  of  Rathkelly.    By  Hawley  Smart. 

17.  Donovan:  A  Modern  Englishman.    By  Edna  Ly all. 

18.  This  Mortal  Coil.    By  Grant  Allen. 

19.  A  Fair  Emigrant.    By  Rosa  Mulholland. 

20.  The  Apostate.    By  Ernest  Baudet. 

21.  Raleigh  Westgate ;  or,  Epimenides  in  Maine.     By  Helen  Kendrick  Johnson. 

22.  Arius  the  Libyan.    A  Romance  of  the  Primitive  Church. 

23.  Constance,  and  CalboVs  Rival.    By  Julian  Hawthorne. 

24.  We  Two.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

26.  A  Dreamer  of  Dreams.    By  the  author  of  Thoth. 

26.  The  Ladies'  Gallery.    By  Justin  McCarthy  and  Mrs.  Campbell-Prabd. 

27.  The  Reproach  of  Annesley.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

28.  Near  to  Happiness. 

29.  In  the  Wire  Grass.    By  Louis  Pendleton. 

30.  Lace.    A  Berlin  Romance.    By  Paul  Lindau. 
30J.  The  Black  Poodle.    By  F.  Anstey. 

31.  American  Coin.    A  Novel.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy, 

32.  Won  by  Waiting.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

33.  The  Story  of  Helen  Davenant.    By  Violet  Fane. 

34.  Tlie  Light  of  Her  Countenance.    By  H.  H.  Boyesen. 

35.  Mistress  Beatrice  Cope.    My  M.  E.  Le  Clerc. 

36.  The  Knight-Errant.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

37.  In  the  Golden  Days.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

38.  Oiraldi ;  or,  The  Curse  of  Love.    By  Ross  George  Bering. 

39.  A  Hardy  Norseman.    By  Edna  Lyall. 

40.  The  Rmnance  of  Jenny  Harlowe,  and    Sketches  of  Maritime  lAfe.    By  W. 

Clark  Russell. 

41.  Passion's  Slave.    By  Richard  Ashe-King. 

42.  The  Awakening  of  Mary  Fmwick.    By  Beatrice  Whituy. 

43.  Countess  Loreley.    Translated  from  the  German  of  Rudolf  Mengeb. 

44.  Blind  Love.    By  Wilkie  Collins. 

45.  The  Dean't  Daughter.    By  Sophie  F.  F.  Veitch. 

46.  Countess  Irene.    A  Romance  of  Austrian  Life.     By  J.  Fogerty. 

47.  Robert  Browninn's  l*rincipal  Shorter  Poems. 

48.  Frozen  Hearts.    By  G.  Webb  Appleton. 

49.  Djambek  the  Georgian.    By  A.  G.  von  Suttner. 

£0,  The  Craze  of  Christian  Engelhart.    By  Henry  Faulkner  Dabnell. 

51.  Lai.    By  William  A.  Hammond,  M.  D. 

52.  Aline.    A  Novel.     By  Henry  Gr^ville. 

5S.  Joost  Avelingh.    A  Dutch  Story.    By  Maarten  Maartens. 

54.  Katy  of  Catoctin.    By  George  Alpred  Townsend. 

55.  Throckmorton.    A  Novel.    B>-  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

56.  Ej-patriation.    By  the  author  of  Aristocracy. 
67.  Geoffrey  Hampstead.    By  T.  S.  Jarvis. 


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58.  Dmitri.    A  Romance  of  Old  Russia.    By  F.  W.  Bain,  M.  A. 
59   Part  of  the  Property.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

60.  Bismarck  in  Private  Life.    By  a  Fellow-Student. 

61.  In  Low  Reli^.    By  Morlet  Roberts. 

62.  The  Canadians  of  Old.    A  Historical  Romance.    By  Phiuppe  GASPi. 

63.  A  Squire  of  Low  Degree.    By  Lii.t  A.  Long. 

64.  A  Fluttered  Dovecote.    By  George  Mantille  Fenn. 

65.  The  Nugents  of  Varriconna.    An  Irish  Story.    By  Tighe  Hopkins. 
06.  A  Sermtice  Plant.    By  E.  and  D.  Gerard. 

67.  Dofla  Imz.    By  Juan  Valera.    Tianslated  by  Mrs.  Mart  J.  Serrano. 

68.  Pepita  Xunenez.   By  Juan  Valeba.    Translated  by  Mrs.  Mary  J.  Serrano. 

69.  The  Primes  and  their  Neighbors.    By  Richard  ilALCOLM  Johnston. 

70.  The  Iron  Game.    By  Henby  F.  Keenan. 

71.  Stories  of  Old  New  Spain.    By  Thomas  A.  Janvier. 

72.  The  Maid  of  Honor.    By  Hon.  Lewis  Wingpield. 
73."  In  the  Heart  of  the  Storm.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

74.  Consequences.    By  Egbbton  Castle. 

75.  The  Three  Miss  Kings.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

76.  A  Matter  of  Skill.    By  Beatbice  Whitby. 

77.  Maid  Marian,  and  Other  Stories.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

78.  One  Woman's  Way.    By  Edmund  Pendleton. 

79.  A  Merciful  Divorce.    By  F.  W.  Maude. 

80.  Stephen  Ellicotfs  Daughter.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needeix. 

81.  One  Reason  Why.    By  Beatrice  Whitby. 

82.  Tlie  Tragedy  of  Ida  Noble.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

83.  The  Johnstovm  Stage,  and  other  Stories.    By  Koswrt  H.  Fletcher. 

84.  A  Widower  Indeed.    By  Rhoda  Broughton  and  Eli7.abeth  Bisland. 

85.  The  Flight  of  a  Shadow.    By  George  MacDonald. 

86.  Love  or  Money.    By  Katharine  Lee. 
Si .  Not  All  in  Vain.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

88.  It  Happened  Yesterday.    By  Frederick  Marshall. 

89.  My  Guardian.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

90.  The  Story  of  Philip  Methuen.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

91.  Amethyst :  The  Story  of  a  Beauty.    By  Chkistabel  R.  Coleridge. 

92.  Don  Braulio.    By  Juan  Valeea.    Translated  by  Clara  Bell. 

93.  The  Chronicles  of  Mr.  Bill  11  illiams.    By  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston. 

94.  A  Queen  of  Curds  and  Cream.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

95.  "  La  Bella  "  and  Others.    By  Egerton  Castle. 

96.  ^^  December  Fcges."    By  Mrs.  Campbell- Pbaeb. 

97.  Jean  de  Kerdren .    By  Jeanne  Schultz. 

98.  Etelka''s  Vow.    By  Dorothea  Gebard. 

99.  Cross  Currents.    By  Mary  A.  Dickens. 

100.  His  Life's  Magnet.    By  Theodora  Elmslie. 

101.  Passing  the  Lme  of  Women.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

102.  In  Old  St.  Stephen's.    By  Jeanie  Drake. 

108.  The  Berkeleys  and  their  Neighbor's.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 

104.  Mo)ia  Maclean,  Medical  Student.    By  Graham  Tbavbbs. 

105.  Mrs.  Bligh.    By  Rhoda  Broughton. 

106.  A  Stumble  on  the  Threshold.    By  James  Patn. 

107.  Hanging  Moss.    By  Paul  Lindau. 

108.  A  Comedy  of  Elopement.    By  Christian  Reid. 

109.  In  the  Sunttme  of  her  Youth.    By  Beatrice  Whitbt. 

110.  Stories  in  Black  and  White.    By  Thomas  Hardy  and  Others. 
llOi,  An  Englishman  in  Paris.    Notes  and  Recollections. 

111.  Commander  Mendoza.    By  Juan  Valera. 

112.  I)r.  Paull's  Theory.    By  Mrs.  A.  M.  Diehl. 

113.  Children  of  Destiny.    By  Molly  Elliot  Seawell. 
114  A  Little  Minx.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

11.5.  CapVn  Davy's  Honeymoon,.    By  Hall  Cainb. 

116.  The  Voice  of  a  Flmoer.    By  E.  Gerard. 

117.  Singularly  Deluded.    By  Sarah  Grand. 

118.  Suspected.    By  Louisa  Stratenus. 

119.  Lucia,  Hugh,  and  Anofier.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 
lao.  The  Tutor's  Secret.    By  Victor  Chebbulikz. 


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HI.  From  tfie  Five  Rivers.    By  Mrs.  F.  A.  Stebl. 

122.  An  Innocent  Impostor,  and  Other  Stories.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 

123.  Ideala.    By  Sakah  Grand. 

124.  A  Comedy  of  Masks.    Bv  Krnept  Dowbon  and  Abthck  MoobS. 

125.  Relics.    By  Frances  MacJNab. 

126.  Dodo:  A  Detail  of  the  Day.    By  E.  F.  Benson. 
137.  A  Woman  of  Fo)-ty.    By  Ksmb  Stuart. 

128.  Diana  Tempest.    By  Mary  Cholmondeley. 

129.  The  Recipifor  Diamonds.    By  C.  J.  Cutcliffe  Hynk. 

130.  Christina  Vhard.    By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

131.  A  Gray  Eye  or  So.    By  Frank  Frankfort  Moore. 
182.  Fktrlscourt.    By  Alexander  Allardyce. 

133.  A  Man-iage  Cei'emony.     By  Ada  Cambridge. 

134.  A  Ward  in  Chancery.     By  Mrs.  Alexander. 

135.  Lot  13.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

136.  Our  Manifold  Nature.    By  Sarah  Grand. 
1S7.  A  CosUy  Freak.    By  Maxwell  Gray. 
1.38.  A  Beginner.    By  Ehoua  Broughton. 

139.  A  Yellmv  Aster.     By  Mrs.  Mannington  Caffyn  ("Iota"). 

140.  The  Rubicon.    By  E.  F.  Benson. 

141.  The  Trespasser.    By  Gilbert  Parker. 

142.  The  Rich  Miss  Riddell.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

143.  Mary  Fenwick's  Daughter.    By  Leatrice  Whitby. 

144.  Red  Diamonds.    By  Justin  McCarthy. 

145.  A  Daughter  of  Music.    By  G.  Colsiore. 

143.  Outlaw  and  Lawmaker.    ByMrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

147.  Dr.  Janet  of  Harley  Street.    By  Arabella  Kenealt. 

148.  Oeorge  Mandeville^s  Husband.    By  C.  E.  Raimond. 

149.  Vashti  and  Esther. 

150.  Timor's  Two  Worlds.    By  M.  Jokai. 

151.  A  Victim  of  Good  Ltwk.    By  W.  E.  Norbis. 

152.  The  Trail  of  tfoe  Sword.    By  Gilbert  Parkeb. 

153.  A  Mild  Barbarian.    By  Edgar  Fawcett. 

154.  The  God  in  the  Car.    By  Anthony  Hope. 

155.  Children  of  Circumstance.    By  Mrs.  M.  Caffyn. 

156.  At  the  Gate  of  Samaria.    By  William  J.  Locke. 

1.57.  The  Justification  of  Andrew  Lebrun.     By  Frank  Babbett. 
158    Dust  and  Laurels.    By  Mary  L.  Pendeebd. 

159.  The  Good  Ship  Mohock.    By  W.  Clabk  Russell. 

160.  Noemi.    By  S.  Baring-Gould. 

161.  The  Honour  of  Savelli.    By  S.  Levett  Yeats. 

162.  Kitty's  Engagement.    By  Florence  Warden. 

163.  The  Mermaid.    By  L.  Douoall. 

164.  An  Arranged  Marriage.    By  Dorothea  Gebabd. 

165.  Eve's  Ransom.    By  George  Gissing. 

166.  The  Marriage  of  Esther.    By  Guy  Boothby. 

167.  Fidelis.    By  Ada  Cambridge. 

168.  Into  the  Highways  and  Hedges.    By  F.  F.  MoNTpf  sob. 

169.  The  Vengeance  of  James  Vansittart.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Needell. 

170.  A  Study  in  Prejudices.     By  George  Paston. 

171.  The  Mistress  of  Quest.     By  Adeline  Sergeant. 

172.  In  the  Year  of  Jxibilee.    By  George  Gissing. 

173.  In  Old  New  England.   By  IIezekiah  Butterworth. 

174.  Mrs.  Musgrave — and  Her  Husband.    By  R.  Marsh. 

175.  Not  Counting  the  Cost.    By  Tasma. 

176.  Out  of  Due  Season.     By  Adeline  Sergeant. 

177.  Scylla  or  Charybdis  f    By  Rhoda  Broughton. 

178.  In  Defiance  of  the  King.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkiss. 

179.  A  Bid  for  Fortune.    By  Guy  Boothby. 

180.  The  Kitig  of  Andaman.    By  J.  Maclaren  Cobban. 

181.  Mrs.  Tregaskiss.    By  Mrs.  Campbell-Praed. 

182.  The  Desire  of  the  Moth.    By  Capel  Vane. 

183.  A  Self-Denyinq  Ordinance.    By  M.  Hamilton. 

184.  Successors  to  the  Title.    By  Mrs.  L.  B.  Walford, 


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185.  The  Lost  Stradivarius.    By  J.  Mbade  Falknek. 

186.  The  ^yrong  Man.    By  Dorothea  Gerard. 

187.  In  the  Day  of  Adversity.    By  J.  Bloundelle-Burtoh. 

188.  Mistress  Dorothy  Marvin.    By  J.  C.  Snaith. 

189.  A  Flash  of  Summer.    By  Mrs.  VV.  K.  Clifford. 

190.  The  Dancer  in  Yellow.    By  W.  E.  Norris. 

191.  The  Chronicles  of  Martin  Hewitt.    By  Arthur  Morrison. 

192.  A  Winning  Hazard.    By  Mrs.  Alexander. 

193    The  Picture  of  Las  Cruces.    By  Christian  BEid. 

194.  The  Madonna  of  a  Day.    By  L.  Dougall. 

195.  The  Riddle  Ring.    By  Justin  McCarthy. 
136.  A  Humble  Enterprise.     By  Ada  Cambridge. 

197.  Dr.  Nikola.    By  Gur  Boothbt. 

198.  An  Outcast  of  the  Islands.     By  Joseph  Conrad. 
19D.  The  King's  Revenge.    By  Claude  Brat. 

200.  Denounced.    By  J.  Bloundklle-Burton. 

201.  A  Court  Intrigue.    By  Basil  Thompson. 

202.  The  Idol-Maker.    By  Adeline  Sergeant. 

203.  The  Intrigtters.    By  John  D.  Barry. 

204.  Master  Ardick,  Buccaneer.    By  F.  H.  Costello. 
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"  Never  before  have  we  had  the  seamy  side  of  glorious  war  50  well  depicted.  .  .  . 

The  action  of  the  story  throughout  is  splendid,  and  all  aglow  with  color,  movement, 

and  vim.     The  style  is  as  keen  and  bright  as  a  sword  blade,  and  a  Kipling  has  done 

nothing  better  in  this  line." — Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"We  have  had  many  stories  of  the  war;  this  stands  absolutely  a\onc."—fioston 
Transcript. 

"There  is  nothing  in  American  fiction  to  compare  with  it.  .  .  .  Mr.  Crane  has 
added  to  American  literature  something  that  has  never  been  done  before,  and  that  is, 
in  its  own  peculiar  way,  inimitable  " — Boston  Beacon. 

"  Holds  one  irrevocably.  There  is  no  possibility  of  resistance  when  once  you  are 
in  its  grasp."' — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"A  truer  and  completer  picture  of  the  war  than  either  Tolstoy  or  Zola." — Loudon 
New  Review. 

"  A  remarkable  study  of  the  average  mind  under  stress  of  battle.  ...  A  really  fine 
achievement." — London  Daily  Chronicle. 

"  Not  merely  a  remarkable  book;  it  is  a  revelation. " — St.  yames's  Gazette. 


New  York :    D.  APPLETON   &  CO.,  72  Filth  Avenue. 


23109 


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A     000  785  064  7 


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